


Only Make Believe

by andeemae



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:32:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 86,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andeemae/pseuds/andeemae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traversing the web of high school and teenage drama with Madge and Gale. Interconnected stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Always on my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early warning, these chapters aren't in chronological order. That's how I originally wrote them and since I add to the story sometimes I'm leaving it that way. I've put 'dates' at the top of each chapter to make it a little less confusing, hopefully that helps making the timeline straight. Sorry. 
> 
> Also, I know that description for this story is lame, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment. If and when I can think of a better permanent description I'll fix it.

Late March, Sophomore Year

"Sprint! Jog! SPRINT! SPRINT! SPRINT!"

So help her, if Madge hears Coach Oberst's harsh voice bark sprint one more time she was going to run straight out the gym door, to her car, and home to catch up on her soap operas. Forget her athletic credit hour, this was inhumane.

"I can't feel my legs," Delly wheezes. Her face is beet red, Madge is pretty sure she's only one day of cardio away from having a mini stroke.

"If Cartwright doesn't pick her butt up and move it, that'll be another two minutes,ladies!"

The group let out a collective groan, gave the now tearful Delly filthy looks.

"Come on Delly. One more minute," Madge urges her.

Katniss, who actually likes the short running exercises, comes back at them from the opposite direction, looking a little annoyed. The only reason she wouldn't want another two minutes would be it would make her late to her after school job.

Chesney Shumard, winded and pale, shakes her head, hisses, "That girl isn't normal."

Madge huffs. Katniss is nice enough, she's been Madge's partner in several classes, but she's not exactly friendly. Madge is quiet, a little shy and slow to warm to new people, but Katniss' quiet is different. It's more the 'talk to me and you'll spend the rest of your life eating through a straw' kind of quiet. She has little patience for her classmates, which is easy to sympathize with, but unlike Madge, she doesn't seem to find the humor in the absurdity of her high school hell.

Instead of feeding into Chesney's sniping, Madge just shrugs and gives Delly another encouraging wave of her hand.

The timer is ticking down, almost to thirty seconds, when the door leading in from the track and field opens and the off-season boys spill in, sweaty, stinky, and in many cases, shirtless.

Pressley, one of Chesney's tagalongs, makes a noise, somewhere between a delighted scream and a squeal of horror, at the sight.

"Hawthorne has his shirt off," she rasps, her eyes fixed on the emerging group.

Madge doesn't care, really, she doesn't. Gale Hawthorne seems to hate her, because she lives in town, has good grades, is 'perfect'…if only he knew. He has some kind of affliction, though, where he takes his shirt off at the drop of a hat, so him naked from the waist up isn't an uncommon occurrence. She's certain that if he so much as got a drop of ketchup on one of the ratty shirts he wears he'd just rip it off rather than try and clean it like a normal person.

Still, his hair is wild from his run, he's actually glistening.He doesn't look like the hot mess most of the girls do. Really, it would be a crime not to look.

Unfortunately, Pressley has little to no foot-eye coordination, trips over her own toes, sprawling out on the overly varnished gym floor, and taking most of the other girls down with her.

They all land in a heap, a nasty mish mash of sweat and Bath and Body Works spray, right in front of the incoming boys.

Coach Oberst is a mess, tears of laughter are leaking out her eyes, "God, what a bunch of hormonal gussies."

She's in such a good mood, watching her charges endure physical injuries always brightens her disposition, she lets them out early.

Katniss, one of only a handful not in the pile up, rolls her eyes at them before heading to the lockers, she has better things to do than check on her stupid classmates.

Madge pushes a whining Chesney off her leg and tries to push herself up. She sees someone striding toward her, it takes a second, but she realizes it's Gale. Probably going to kick her.

Before he can reach her though, someone hauls her up, back onto her feet.

"Upsy daisy, Madge."

Peeta is behind her. Once she's regained her balance, he turns to Chesney, offering her a hand. Madge glances back, sees Gale giving Peeta a dark look, probably upset he hadn't gotten the chance to stomp on Madge's hand, something she's certain he'd dearly love to do.

Turning back to Peeta, Madge grins, "My knight in shining spandex."

He bows a little.

Madge runs off to change, get out of her disgusting gym clothes and comb her tangled mess of hair. When she emerges, still a little sticky from the torture of Coach Oberst, Peeta is waiting, leaning against the opposite wall in his warm up sweats.

"Don't you have a match today?"

He nods, "Yeah, but we don't leave until three, so I figured I'd come and check on you. Make sure you weren't concussed."

His arm swings around her shoulder. They check her locker, retrieve her homework and toss in the books she doesn't need, then Peeta walks her out to her car.

"You gonna be okay driving?"

She rolls her eyes. Normally he drives her, not that she can't, she just isn't fond of driving, and he lives close, and she pays for gas so she isn't a total mooch. "I think I can handle it."

"Well," he gives her his most parental look, "text me when you get home."

"Yes, mother."

He laughs, stuffs his hands into his jacket and looks around, chewing his lip.

"So…Katniss didn't fall today."

This again.

He had some weird crush on Katniss Everdeen. Why, Madge wasn't sure. Not that Katniss wasn't pretty, she was, and Peeta was Peeta. He was also the epitome of sweetness, held doors and offered to walk old ladies across the street, it just didn't match up with Katniss' consistently dour mood.

Madge wanted Peeta to be happy, she just wasn't sure Katniss could do that, despite what Peeta himself believed.

Madge snorts, "Peeta, she doesn't see boys, she just sees large humans."

Actually, Chesney was convinced Katniss wasn't even aware she was female until they put her in girls athletics.

Peeta laughs, shakes his head, "Well, maybe she'll notice this large human someday."

Madge laughs, "If that helps you sleep at night, Peeta."

With a grin, he nods, "It does." He checks his phone, "Gotta go."

Tapping her shoulder, he jogs off, back up to the school to meet up with the rest of the wrestling team.

Madge gets in her car, has the key out and is building herself up for the drive home when her phone vibrates with an incoming message.

'Don't 4get the tulle in the home ec class need those swags finished asap:p'

Madge groans, why hadn't Delly reminded her earlier, when she had Peeta and his muscle to help? And couldn't she just spell 'forget'?

Cursing Delly and her ability to trick people into doing things they really didn't want to do, Madge gets out of her car and stomps back up to the school. She wasn't going to prom, she was only a sophomore, but somehow Delly had convinced her to help the flailing junior class out.

"They just can't get their act together," she'd given Madge her most dramatic sigh. "We have to give the seniors a good sendoff!"

Why, exactly, Madge owed the seniors anything, she didn't know, but Delly and her sighing and begging had worn her down. She was such a pushover. Now she was stuck making swags and decorating for the ungrateful jerks. They wouldn't even appreciate it.

She expects a few rolls of tulle, maybe a bolt, but what she gets is seven.

How many swags does she expect her to make? How does she even make swags? She thought it was just tacked up. Apparently she was wrong. Or Delly was.

These would just barely fit in her car, and only if she rolled the windows in the backseat down.

Unhappily, Madge begins dragging a couple of them. She doesn't even care if she messes up the end.

She's made it out of the room, down the hall, to the breezeway between the buildings when something catches on the bolt under her right arm. Irritated, she doesn't have time for snags, she turns and finds Gale, his foot holding the tulle to the ground.

"Having a little bit of trouble there, All-Star?"

She jerks the bolt, hoping he'll lose his balance and fall on his smug face, but he just stays in place, smirking at her.

"Some boyfriend you got there. Didn't even help you with these big, bulky fabrics."

Madge closes her eyes. What is he talking about?

Without thinking, she's tired and sticky and she just wants to go home, she sighs, "Yeah, well, Devon Sawa and I broke up. We couldn't handle the age difference."

He tilts his head, a bit like a dog trying to figure out where a ball went. Clearly he's missed her reference.

"Devon Sawa, you know, Casper…the friendly ghost?"

As in nonexistent.

Hadn't he gone to the same school as her? Been subjected to the same seven movies for inside recess as her? How did he not know this?

Granted, Madge's old babysitter had watched Casper so much they'd worn out the VHS, probably broke the tape on Casper and Kat's dance, so maybe she remembered it a little better than most.

Gale grunts, looks a little disgusted, "I meant Mellark."

Madge's nose scrunches up. Peeta? "Peeta isn't my boyfriend."

He's like a brother, or a cousin, or some combination of the two.

Peeta and she had been friends since preschool, field trip partners, best friends. He knew all the bitter details of Madge's family struggles and she knew about his parents' very ugly divorce. They leaned on each other.

But boyfriend? That would be creepy.

Gale crosses his arms, he has a shirt on, which is shocking in the warm afternoon, and laughs, "Right. You two are just real chummy."

She isn't sure why it matters to him, but she doesn't care, just huffs, gives the bolt another jerk, shaking him off before beginning her long walk to her car.

Suddenly, the weight, all from the wooden bolt inside the fluffy tulle, is lighter. She looks back and sees Gale hoisting the pair over his shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugs, "Helping."

He might trip her, laugh at her, but help her? She finds that highly unlikely.

Pulling the bolts from Madge's shoulders, he easily begins down the incline, to the parking lot.

"Where's your car?"

Confused and more than a little wary, but happy she may get off school property before the next week, Madge leads him to her car and opens the back door. She crawls through and cranks down the opposite window before backing back out and helping guide the two long bolts into the back seat.

"Parents didn't spring for them fancy new electric windows?"

Madge shoots him a dirty look. Despite what he may think, her family doesn't have all the money in the world. In fact they're consistently behind on payments because of her mother's addiction treatment eating into their funds. Her car was ancient and used, but cheap to buy and keep insurance on, especially since she didn't drive all that often.

"No, but they did let me change out the eight track for a newfangled tape deck."

Gale laughs, actually laughs. It's a shame he doesn't do it more often, she thinks, because he has a very nice one. Deep, rumbling, too pleasant. Her stomach does a flip and she curses it for its foolishness.

When he finally stops, he looks back up at the school, "How many more you got?"

#######

Half an hour later they have all seven of Delly's tulle bolts in the back of Madge's junker car.

They're both sweaty, the afternoon sun is dying but still hot and bouncing off the new asphalt. Gale leans over and rubs his face in the bottom of his shirt, Madge's tries studiously not to look at his tanned, toned stomach, but again, it would almost be criminal not to at least peak at it.

When he straightens out, twisting to pop his back, Madge gives him a tight smile.

"Thanks."

He didn't have to help her, she isn't sure why he did actually, it was uncharacteristically nice of him.

Gale grunts, as was his custom, finally having used up his quota of words to use on her for the day, and turns to walk away. He's only taken a few steps, enough for Madge to open her driver's side door, when he turns back to her.

"So, you and Mellark," his hand is at his neck, rubbing at the back, "you two really aren't together?"

Madge fights the urge to roll her eyes. What does it matter to him?

"No."

He grunts for a final time, turns and heads toward the back of the school, maybe to the Ag barn. He probably parks back there, she thinks.

Madge decides to ignore his momentary fixation on her nonexistent love life and falls into her car.

She should've run out of the gym earlier. She could be catching up on her soaps already.


	2. One piece at a time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Homecoming Season, Sept/Oct, Sophomore Year

Madge got out of her car and sighed. This was just her luck.

It wouldn't start, just made a pathetic clicking noise each time she turned the key. She went to the front and popped the hood, wedged it up with the long metal rod that lived under it, put her hands to her hips, and gave what she assumed was the engine a disapproving glare.

How dare it not want to start.

After several minutes of that not working, and that was the only tool in her arsenal, she sighed again and ran through her options.

Peeta and his family, her best shot, were out of town already, had left the day before to head to a cousin's wedding. She could call her dad, but he was out of town, so that wouldn't do her much good. Maybe he could point her in the right direction though. Her mother was at a retreat, trying to stay clean. There was Mr. Abernathy, he would come, but it was late and Madge was certain he would have started drinking. She didn't see how him walking up to the high school and cursing her car with his liquor bottle would help her.

Madge bit her lip and pulled out her phone, scrolled through the numbers.

Katniss.

While Katniss herself probably didn't have any auto repair skills, her dad worked for the District, so maybe he knew some basic mechanics. Maybe she was stereotyping them since they lived in the country…

Hitting the name, she prayed Katniss wouldn't be offended by the assumption.

It turned out to be a pointless worry, the Everdeens didn't even answer.

She pulled up Delly Cartwright. It was Delly's fault for making her stay after school for her stupid homecoming committee meeting, which Madge wasn't even on but had somehow been guilted into helping with anyways. She hoped Delly answered and had someone that could help, she owed it to Madge.

Her thumb had just begun to lower, to quickly smash the name, when someone pulled up behind her.

"Car trouble, Undersee?"

Not you.

Why, of all the people at the school, did Gale Hawthorne have to pull up?

Madge bit her lip, "No, Gale, just admiring this marvel of modern technology."

The windows were all down in his banged up truck, which had clearly seen better days. The paint was peeling and the bed was scratched almost bare, there were patches of rush, very small, on the bumper, but it was surprisingly clean.

She heard the driver's side door open, then bang shut, and cringed when she felt Gale's looming warmth at her side, staring down at her open hood beside her.

"What all have you checked?"

He apparently feels some kind of manly duty to help her in her time of auto distress, which would be cute, if she weren't sure it was going to result in him making her feel like a complete ditz.

She shrugs, "I've opened the hood."

Gale nods, "And?"

Madge waves her hand at the car's guts, "The engine still appears to be intact."

He makes a noise, it almost sounds like a laugh, but when she looks to him he's a stoic as ever.

"Okay."

"Maybe," Madge bites her lip, "you can jump it?"

She has cables and everything, not that she's one hundred percent sure how to use them, but Gale probably did, and she has no doubt he'dlove to show her how to use them.

"You're radio is playing," he states, as though that's important.

"So?"

"It isn't your battery if the radio is playing. A dead battery or a shot alternator would mean your radio, lights, you know, the things the battery runs, wouldn't work." He rubs his face with his hand, "When was the last oil change?"

A small part of her wants to play dumb, ask if she's supposed to change the oil everyyear, but she's tired and covered in glitter from Delly's homecoming decorations, so she just lets her shoulders sag, "A month ago."

He nods, actually looks a little stunned she had done some basic car maintenance.

Gale takes a step forward, leans over and puts his hands on the car, staring down into the hood as though divining the root of its problem in the silence. He reaches in and pulls out the dipstick, she guesses he didn't believe her about having the oil changed, smears it on his jeans, then puts it in and out again. Once he's happy the car is in perfect working order, other than not running, he straightens up, which is a shame, she was enjoying the view.

"I bet it's your starter."

Now he was just messing with her head.

"My what?" That had to be a fake name. He was making that up.

"The starter." He walks around to her driver's side and folds himself in before trying to turn the key over, only to be met with a clicking noise. "Yeah, probably the starter."

Madge gives him a dull glare, "You aren't funny."

"I know," his brow wrinkles. "I'm not trying to be."

She arches her eyebrows. A 'starter'? Really? How stupid does he think she is?

"Do you get those at the same place you get the 'blinker fluid'?"

Gale rolls his eyes, "I'm serious, Undersee. It's a real thing. It literally makes the car start." He eyes her phone, "You have anyone you can call?"

Madge wishes she did, telling him 'no' makes her feel a little pathetic. Lying though, isn't really an option if he's telling her the truth. Maybe he'll continue to take pity on her and tell her the name of someone who won't rip her off too badly, she isn't certain the guys at the oil change center are qualified to change a 'starter', though she isn't sure.

Sadly, she shakes her head no.

He looks serious, even as he pulls out his phone and dials a number while walking to the tool chest bolted in the front of the truck bed. Probably one of his football buddies to laugh at her.

She gives her traitorous car a glare. How dare it betray her like this.

When he comes back he's holding several tools.

He hands a few to her, "When I ask for one of these hand them to me."

Madge wrinkles her nose, "What are you going to do?"

"Get the starter off," he grunts, pulling a cord or some sort off what she thinks is the battery. He goes back to his truck and grabs a jack, slides it under her car and hoists it up before sliding under is himself.

After what feels like ten minutes of Gale snapping at her for handing him the wrong tools, as if she knows one from the other, he crawls out from under it with a small part in hand.

"The starter."

He holds it out for her inspection, as if seeing the defective piece will make her understand him more. She frowns.

"So…what now?" Obviously this is an essential part. Where does she get another 'Starter'?

Gale tosses it up and catches it, "I called my dad. He's going to bring us another."

Madge nods, hoping it's that easy.

"You, uh, working on homecoming?"

She nods again. "Oh, yeah. Delly talked me into it."

He grunts. After a few moments of silence he cuts a look at her. "You coming to the game?"

"Yeah, I guess." It was probably the only game she'd attend that year. She didn't enjoy the cooling fall air or having to interact with the shrilly cheering crowd and her schoolmates. Football games, any school function really, was just a waste of time for her. Besides, it exhausted her, being around all those people.

Madge looks from her car over to him, wondering why he's trying to make small talk.

"I'm escorting Chenille Shumard," he tells her suddenly.

Okay…

Why his escorting Chesney's big sister during the homecoming ceremony is important, Madge isn't really certain, but she gives him a small smile. "Oh, that's nice."

If his sudden scowl is any indication, he doesn't seem to think so, but says, "Yeah."

They stand there, staring at her car as they wait for his dad.

"Hey, Undersee?"

Madge frowns and turns to him. He looks a little pale, maybe he's dehydrated from football practice, his mouth is gaping a little.

Then a truck pulls up, the District 12 emblem on the door and a government tag, the driver gives the horn a little honk. Gale scowls.

A man, about Gale's height, with a scruffy bearded and a long sleeved work shirt on, hops out. He's smiling as he brings a box over to them and hands it to Gale before jutting his hand out to Madge.

"You must be the young lady with the bad starter," he grins. His shirt is filthy, smeared with grease and dirt, emblazoned with the District 12 emblem and his name, 'Asher', on the right shoulder. "I'm Gale's dad."

He reaches out with a calloused and worn hand and shakes hers.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Hawthorne. I'm Madge."

He chuckles, "Just call me Asher, little lady." He shoots Gale a small look, "He behaving himself?"

Madge gives him a small smile, not sure what to say. Gale was helping her, which was more than she ever really expected. So she nods, "As much as a teenage boy can I suppose."

Mr. Hawthorne laughs, it's deep and warm. Madge wonders if Gale laughs the same way, or if he's even able to laugh.

"Very diplomatic of you."

He turns and watches his son as he crawls under the little car with the starter, offering a few pointers here and there as Gale grunts acknowledgements.

Uh-huh. Yep. Yeah. I know dad. Yeah.

Mr. Hawthorne grins over at Madge after the tenth 'Uh-huh' and winks.

"He's a real conversationalist."

Madge lets a little giggle bubble out.

How did such a friendly man produce Gale? His mother must be a total witch.

The sun is sinking at their backs when Gale finally wiggles out from under the car, wiping his hands on his already filthy jeans, smearing oil and grease across his thighs. He pushes himself up from the parking lot and gestures back to the car.

"I'll get it down then we'll try it out."

He releases the jack and reconnects whatever it was that he'd pulled off earlier, then tells Madge to get in and start it.

After a deep breath, Madge turns the key, and, to her great relief, it starts.

She does a little dance in her seat, "It lives!"

Mr. Hawthorne grins as Gale slams the hood down.

"Thank you so much!" Madge beams at them, "What do I owe you for this?"

Mr. Hawthorne holds up his hand, "Helping a pretty girl is payment enough."

He bats away her wallet, waves a finger at her and laughs when she makes her saddest face at him. "I have four kids. I'm impervious to that face, little lady."

"I at least owe you for the part."

Gale's father just keeps shaking his head as he walks back toward his truck.

"Please, Mr. Hawthorne!" Madge drops her hands to her sides in exasperation.

He waves, "It's Asher, and I get a discount at the parts store, so don't worry about paying."

She's still protesting as he gets in his District truck and drives off, waving his goodbye.

Madge pulls out whatever cash she has in her wallet and tries to hand it to Gale, but he pushes it back at her.

"You heard the man."

She gives him a glare, "I'm not just gonna let you roll around on the ground and get all dirty fixing my car and not at least pay for the part."

Gale eyes the money for a moment before shaking his head and grunting, "Wasn't much work."

Madge tires to shove it in his hand but he jerks back, raises his hands above his head.

A little annoyed and ready to go home, Madge attempts to stuff the money in the pocket of Gale's shirt.

"If you want to get in my clothes you don't need money, Undersee."

She freezes.

He's grinning, there's an odd sort of gleam in his eyes, the dim sun is flickering out in them. He's teasing her.

She starts to snipe back, 'yeah, I've heard,' but stops herself. He's been uncharacteristically nice to her, just repaired her car, so she bites her retort back and settles on, "Don't get excited, Gale."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I'll bet you wouldn't.

Gale walks around his truck and hops in, "You can owe me lunch or something."

Madge nods, she owes him something, and if torturing her during lunch is his way of getting his pound of flesh for services rendered then she supposes she'll just have to suck it up and muddle through. She squints back at him, but can't really make out his features in the dying sun.

"Sure, and thanks, Gale. It was really nice of you. Just name the place and I'll pay up."

He tilts his head a little, nods, then shifts his truck into gear and takes off.

Madge falls into her car, sighing at the soft rumble of the now running engine. Her luck may have been crappy, but at least it had ended well this time.


	3. Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Late March, Sophomore Year

Madge had almost forgotten about owing Gale for fixing her car when he slammed his shoulder into the locker up and to the left of hers the day after helping her drag tulle out of the school. It's during passing period, between second and third hour, and Madge is stuffing her lit book next to her algebra II book and grabbing her biology folders when she looks up and sees him staring down at her.

Her eyebrows arch as she waits for him to say something, but instead he just keeps watching her until she stands and straightens out.

"Can I help you?"

His mouth tightens into a thin line, then he tugs it over, thinking.

"Katniss is home with that stomach bug."

While she would like to think maybe her lab partner wants to reassure her she hasn't abandoned formal education and gone to live amongst the creatures in the wild, something Madge has mentioned Katniss might attempt, she doubts Katniss would really care if Madge knew where she was or why. Madge would see she wasn't in class and could figure it out from there as far as Katniss was usually concerned.

Gale had an ulterior motive. She just didn't know what it was yet.

"Oh, okay," Madge gives him a tight smile and waits for him to say something else, but he just fiddles with the handle on the locker next to him.

There's only a few minutes left in passing, she doesn't have time for him to mess with her. It wouldn't be the first time he's made her late for class.

A few months before he and his friend Thom had been tossing their football around in the halls and made her drop her Spanish folder and all her vocab cards, scattering them from the top of the hall all the way down to the end of the corridor. It had taken ten minutes to catch them all as they blew in the chilly winter wind each time someone opened the double doors leading outside. The year before he'd been roughhousing with some of his fellow football players and knocked one of their breakfasts, a barely warm paper bowl of biscuits and gravy, all over Madge's new skirt. There was the squirrel guts fiasco, the incident with the Gatorade during the basketball tournament, he'd spilled coffee all over her English report about the Great Gatsby…

Not that he didn't apologize profusely, he did, but after a while she began to grow weary of it. She would rather he just not pick at her instead of doing so, then expecting forgiveness.

Madge nods, turns to leave before he decides to inflict his latest torture, but he starts walking with her.

"So, uh, remember a few months ago when I fixed your car?"

She glances over at him, he's a little pale, maybe he's getting the stomach bug too, and nods.

Gale's hand is up at his neck, rubbing it unconsciously as he forms his words in his mind, "Well, Katniss is gone today, and Thom has lunch detention, and, uh, your friend Mellark is off for his wrestling thing…"

Neither one of them have anything to do at lunch, or, more specifically, neither one of their normal lunch buddies were there. He's calling in his payment.

She freezes. Oh, god. She's going to have to struggle through a lunch with Gale.

"Not to sound mean," it was going to, "but don't you have a girl you actually like, that likes you too, that you can go to lunch with?"

A girl he's dated, or will date, maybe? He gets around, she's heard, surely one of his former or future flavors of the week would want to drool over him for an hour?

His nose wrinkles, something like annoyance flickers in his eyes, "I do, but you owe me, Undersee."

Why hadn't he just let her pay him for the part? It would've been so much simpler.

Madge keeps her face neutral, but groans inside. She'd wanted to go home, watch some television, avoid humanity, but now she had to sacrifice her free time to appease Gale Hawthorne's twisted sense of repayment.

He probably didn't even care about getting paid, this was just some power trip for him. She owed him and he'd waited until she'd almost forgotten before calling in the favor.

"Fine," she starts walking again. "I'll meet you by the library."

He grunts, it sounds affirmative, then jogs off. She thinks his next class is Ag, though she isn't really sure why she has that might-be information stored in her brain. Katniss must've mentioned it at some point.

The next few hours she spends in dread. The only time she and Gale had spent significant time alone together had been when they'd had to work on a history project together, and while that had gone surprisingly well, even bordering on enjoyable, they'd had focus then, a goal. What was the goal of lunch? Other than to eat, of course.

To entertain Gale with her discomfort, she supposed.

When the lunch bell rings she slowly pushes through the halls, exchanges her books at her locker, then makes her way out the door. She expects to have to wait on Gale, but is pleasantly surprised to find him already waiting on the bench by the library door.

"Ready?"

He nods, still looking a little pale. If he gets her sick she's going to be really upset.

"I'll drive," he tells her, gesturing for her to head to the back of the school, toward the barns where she remembers he parks most days.

Since she hates driving, only has her car because of Peeta's stupid wrestling tournament, she doesn't argue, just trails after him.

When they get to his truck, still banged up and peeling, he tugs her sleeve and gestures to the driver's side door. "I have some stuff in the passenger side, get in over here."

She spots boxes, stacked in the cab, almost over to the driver's side, and groans.

"We can take my car." She'd even let him drive it. Riding in his truck she was practically going to be in his lap by the looks of it.

"It'll be fine."

He pushes her toward the open door and she can feel his eyes on her as she crawls in, sets, and presses herself as far into the boxes as possible. She flinches when his thigh smashes into her after he jumps in. "Sorry."

Carefully she rearranges her skirt, pulls it down where it had ridden up on her legs. When she's reasonably certain she's covered herself, she glances over, well, up really. Gale hasn't even gotten his keys out, is just watching her, his mouth a little gaped.

"Are we going?" There's only an hour for lunch after all. If he wants to be a creep he can do it later and with someone else.

He nods, digs in his pocket for the keys, then starts the truck and shifts it into gear before stretching his arm out, over the back of the bench seat, just behind Madge's head, letting his hand rest on one of the boxes.

"Where to?"

Madge shrugs, she can't think properly with his arm behind her and his body so close to her. His heat is permeating through her clothes more than the sun beating down through the windshield. She can smell his deodorant, and she's pretty sure he's wearing cologne. Not the cheap body spray the boys seem to think covers their smell after gym, but actual, went to the mall and bought something at the counter, cologne. Why is he wearing cologne?

She squints up at him, he's shaved. There are little traces of stubble on his chin and cheeks, down his neck, his beard must grow back quickly, but he'd tried to clean himself up a little.

His clothes are nicer than he usually wears too. No worn t-shirt and grimy jean, but a pair of what look to be new Levis and a clean and pressed gray collared shirt.

Something in her mind flickers. What is going on here?

"Gale?"

He grunts.

"What, uh," she can't get her question out. Finally she settles on, "So, where are we going?"

He glances down, then back to the road, "Uh, ever been to The Hob?"

She hadn't. It was some kind of flea market barn, but she'd heard it had a decent café inside. It was out in the country, past District Line Road, the 'Seam', and since she had no desire to be the first girl murdered in a horror movie, she generally avoided that area. Her head shakes 'no'.

"That okay?"

She nods. Hopefully no one will kill her if she's with one of their own.

It takes ten minutes to get to The Hob, and that's only because Gale drives at what Madge estimates to be a good ten miles over the posted speed.

The parking lot is really just a field where people left their cars, hodge podge, in semi-organized rows. Gale gets out and offers Madge a hand, which she hesitantly takes. He pulls her out, her knees give a little when her feet hit the ground and she almost loses her footing, but Gale catches her around the middle, keeping her up.

His hand stays there a little too long, she cuts him a look and he jerks away, as if she'd burned him. "Uh, let's go."

He leads the way through the weeds, a few burrs catch in her skirt and stick to her socks.

Inside the huge barn, fans, hanging precariously from the high ceiling, spin lazily. The floor is dirt, small trails have been beaten into it over the years by patrons walking the same path. It smells of dirt and dust, animals and used goods. It's a little intimidating.

Madge stays close to Gale, the few people there are eyeing her. In her nice shoes and first-hand clothes, she stands out, clearly doesn't belong.

The café is at the back. There are a few stools at a counter, which is more of a board supported on some sawhorses, under a crudely made handwritten sign with the words 'Greasy Sae's" painted on it.

Clearly it served health food.

Gale's hand presses into her back, a little lower than it should be, as he guides her past the makeshift counter, to a hobbled together booth in the corner. A girl, a little odd looking, puts a pair of soup bowls and some mason jars of ice tea in front of them before wandering off.

"I didn't order," Madge frowns at the bowl.

"There's only one thing on the menu," Gale shrugs, lifting a spoonful to his mouth.

She pokes her spoon into the stew. It looks a little like gumbo, Mr. Abernathy had made her some once. While it wasn't her favorite, she could tolerate it. This is more what she expected, not Gale messing with her head by being nice, but Gale messing with her head by feeding her food of questionable quality and origin.

He's watching her, chewing on a hank of something, probably expecting her to turn up her nose at the food. She takes a spoonful in her mouth.

It has an odd flavor, not really unpleasant but strange, and the meat has a texture she can't quite place, and she realizes, taking in the décor of taxidermy and horns, she may not want to know. Gale will probably reveal she's eaten something horrible later, but she won't let him call her a snob by refusing to eat.

"So, uh," he stares down at his bowl, "you having fun working on prom?"

She isn't. Not in the slightest. If his class would get their act together she wouldn't be contributing to something she isn't even going to get to enjoy.

"Not really."

He grunts, chews another piece of meat.

"Well don't you look all fresh and pressed today?"

A skinny old woman, missing several teeth, comes to their table, ruffles Gale's hair, which, Madge realizes belatedly, is carefully combed.

Gale gives her an irritated look, tries to right his hair, but the damage is already done. It's back to a hopeless mess.

The woman looks at Madge and grins, "Ah, so this is why."

She thinks we're on a date!

Before Madge can correct her, the woman grins at Gale, "First one you've brought out here. Must be special." She leans in to his ear, whispers loud enough for Madge to hear, "She's a pretty one."

Madge can feel her face burn.

The woman, she must be Greasy Sae, gives Gale one last pat on the back, before sauntering off, leaving the pair in silence.

Gale is a little darker, the color has returned to his cheeks and then some. "Sorry about that."

Madge nods, barely moves her head, "It's fine."

He tugs at the collar of his shirt, swallows hard, Madge is mesmerized by the way his Adam's apple bobs.

"Do-Have you thought about going?"

She frowns. Going to what?

He clears his throat, swallows again, "To prom, I mean."

Back to prom. Not her favorite subject.

"I can't. I'm a sophomore." Prom was Junior/Senior. Maybe years of eating tainted meat had given him memory problems.

"You could, you know, if you went with an upperclassmen…" There's a smudge of orange, the stew's juice, at the corner of his mouth.

Without thinking Madge takes her napkin, reaches across the table and dabs it from his mouth, it's going to drive her insane. Her hand freezes when Gale catches her fingers in his grasp, holds them against his face for a second before releasing them.

Madge falls back into her seat, eyes him cautiously, "The only upperclassmen I know are you and Rhys Mellark." And she isn't going to prom wi-

Oh. Oh.

Her eyes widen and her mouth presses into a line as she stares at Gale. His Adam's apple bobs again, he licks his lips, nods, encouraging her to put it together.

"You want to go to prom," she feels her cheeks burn, "with me?"

He nods.

"Why?"

Gale's brow wrinkles, "'Cause I want to."

"But why?" He's spent most of the past two years embarrassing her and tormenting her.

"Because I like you and I want to," he tugs at his hair. "Isn't that a good enough reason?"

Madge's feels her face morph in disbelief, "You like me?"

He frowns, "Yeah."

Well that's news to her.

"Since when?" Because he certainly hadn't given her any hin-

Oh. Oh.

"Since, I dunno, a long time." He lets his elbows hit the table as he presses his palms to his eyes. "Look, I know I do a lot of shit things to you, but trust me, most of them are accidental. I swear they are. I can't seem to ever do anything right when you're around."

Madge thinks about all the times he's seemingly tormented her. Each time she'd been so upset, annoyed, embarrassed, she hadn't looked too closely at what had happened past Gale being the cause behind each incident. Now though…

Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe she's been too busy expecting the worst, never given him the benefit of the doubt, despite how genuinely sorry he always seems.

"I just-can we just," he sighs into his hands. "Can we try to start fresh?"

He looks a little defeated, with his fingers in his hair and his palms over his eyes, like he expects her to throw her stew at him or drown him in ice tea.

Madge reaches out, tugs his hands from his face.

He's back to being a little peaky, his eyes are bleary, and his hair is a mess. His Adam's apple bobs again as he swallows and waits for what he must think is the inevitable rejection.

"Alright."

It takes a second, but a small smile creeps up his lips as her words sink in. "You-You're serious?"

She nods, "But if this is a trick, so help me Gale, I will beat you with one those glass eyed squirrels over there."

He laughs, lets a genuine smile push his cheeks up. He's actually very handsome when he isn't impersonating Lurch.

"It's not a trick, I swear."

The clock on the wall shows they have fifteen minutes to get back to the school, so they leave the booth, weave through the stands and back out to the warm spring sun.

When they get to the truck Madge squints at the boxes, "Girl Scout Cookies?"

A lot of Girl Scout Cookies. Had he robbed a troop or something? Or was he some kind of nontraditional scout?

"My sister is a Daisy scout," his color deepens. "I'm supposed to deliver these to some of the teachers at the high school for her today after class."

"Your sister sells Girls Scout Cookies and you didn't let me buy any?" She may have to rethink this relationship.

He chuckles, "I'll put you on her list."

"You better. I love Carmel deLites."

"Not a Thin Mint girl?"

"I like those too." She makes a pained face, "Mr. Abernathy and I use to put the lemon ones in the fridge and eat them all summer, but they discontinued those."

"Tragic," he snorts.

"Are you laughing at my pain?" He's really testing this new ground their treading on.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He opens the door and she hops in, a little more at ease when he slides in, starts the truck, and puts his arm over the back of the seat.

Madge lets her eyes flicker to his mouth. There's still a smudge, just barely, at the edge of his mouth.

"Gale," she arches her eyebrows up. When he looks over to her, she makes a gesture to her face, "You have something on your mouth."

He cringes, wipes at it with his hand, "Did I get it?"

Madge shakes her head, "No, let me help."

She reaches up, rubs it with her thumb, enjoying the feel of his rough skin under her fingers. Then, just as she's finished, gotten the mark from his face, he dips in, presses a light kiss to her lips.

"Thanks."

He heart has stopped, definitely stopped. She just stares at him, a little dumbfounded.

"Madge," he licks his lips. "You know I paid for lunch, right?"

Her nose wrinkles. "I guess I still owe you something then, huh?"

Gale leans back in, kisses her again. He tastes like the stew, spicy and unfamiliar, but she thinks she enjoys it second hand better than she had straight from the bowl.

Her hands creep up, tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer while he shifts, pushes her against the boxes. After a few minutes, when they're both good and breathless, he sits back, fumbles with his keys before starting the truck.

"We're gonna be late for class."

For the first time, Madge doesn't care if Gale makes her miss her entire class.


	4. Someday never comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

May, Sophomore Year

Gale was beginning to wonder if Madge's parents were ever home.

Not that he minded the independence it granted them, not to mention the blissful quiet that came with an empty house, a concept that was almost completely foreign to him. He had three younger siblings, after all, his house was never quiet.

After a while, though, it began to get disconcerting.

"They're gone a lot," Mellark had told him, a little cryptically, when Gale had asked about Madge's seemingly absent family.

'A lot' was an understatement. Gale had yet to see either of her parents since they'd started dating. Mrs. Everdeen had given him the sad run down on Mrs. Undersee's state, she and Madge's mother had been friends when they were younger. It was something Gale didn't think Madge had any interest in talking about, but her dad was another story.

"So, uh, is your dad going to call about that leak in that sink?"

Madge, in her running shorts and a tank top, a dangerous combination Gale thinks, shrugs, "I dunno."

She's focused on the television, some stupid soap opera that she seems to hate most days, is on.

"Oh my god, why do they keep showing this mob crap!" She looks ready to fling the remote, "It's about a 'hospital', it has 'hospital' in its name! I'm not watching tomorrow."

She'd threatened the same thing the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that…

"Madge," Gale flops on the bed, landing with a muffled 'plomp' beside her. "If you don't get that leak fixed it's going to waste a ton of money when it rots out the floor."

Her nose wrinkles up, "I know. I'll do it later, alright?"

That's what she'd said about the roof, and the running toilet, and, god, he didn't even want to think about how she'd rigged multiple extension cords up the stairs when the plug in her room had stopped working…

How could her parents let her live like this? Maybe her dad was one of those guys that needed to hear it from a man…

"I can tell your dad tonight," Gale tells her, pushing a few errant strands from her face.

Madge shakes her head, "He isn't coming home tonight."

"Tomorrow then."

"He won't be home tomorrow, either."

Gale growls, "Well, when will he be home?"

Madge picks at the hem of her shirt, there's a loose thread. "I-Next week? Maybe? If nothing happens." She sighs, "He's been at some kind of convention, then they had a meeting, I don't know, everytime they think they're done something happens and it extends."

"He can't just leave you here by yourself forever." Surely he couldn't.

She doesn't look so sure, "My record for staying home alone is two months." A small smile flickers on her lips, "Mr. Abernathy keeps an eye on me, even though I'm old enough to take care of myself these past few years. He'll fix the sink, just like he would've fixed the other things if you'd have left them alone."

The drunk is watching her.

Fantastic.

Haymitch Abernathy is a creep, as far as Gale is concerned. He'd grown up out in the Seam, near Gale and Katniss' families, but after his mother and brother were killed in a fire he'd come into a lot of money and moved to Town and proceeded to become the biggest bar fly the District had ever known.

The first time Gale came to Madge's house, a week after they started dating, the old bastard had interrogated him, practically had Gale up against a wall asking him what exactly he was planning with Madge.

It was less than comforting to know that the only person consistently watching Madge's back was a pervy old alcoholic.

"I'll bet."

Madge cuts him a look, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gale rolls his eyes, she's the most oblivious person sometimes. "He's a pervert, Madge."

"Oh-Gale, he is not." She makes a face, huffs, "He and my mother, they've been friends for ages. They helped each other after his family died and her sister was killed." Her arms cross over her chest, "He loves me like a daughter."

Gale isn't so sure about that, but decides it isn't the time to poke holes in Madge's little fantasy world, not yet anyway. She likes the coot, so he'll just have to catch him in the middle of something.

In the mean time he'd fix that damn sink.

He gets up and goes to the shed out back, grabs the tool box he's been leaving at her house due to the frequency of his finding things to repair, then heads back upstairs to the broken sink.

"Gale, I told you, I'll get Mr. Abernathy to fix it."

That only makes Gale grunt, work a little quicker, he isn't leaving the house until that sink is fixed and Haymitch has no reason to be inside.

Madge huffs, Gale hears her plop onto the toilet seat next to him. She bends and peers around the corner of the cabinet, to where Gale is on his back under the sink, searching for the source of the leak.

He locates it fairly quickly, and is happy to find he isn't going to have to replace anything, just tighten a few nuts. Though in an old house like this, it was only a matter of time before all the ancient pipes did need replaced.

With another grunt, he pulls himself out from under the sink and sits up, wiping a few droplets of water off his forehead. "There, fixed."

"Thanks," Madge begins picking at the loose thread on her shirt again.

Gale looks around, frowns to himself.

This house is ancient. Beautiful, but old. And with old houses came drafts during the winter through the rickety windows and doors, no insulation in the attic, poorly sealed window units and suspicious, under-maintained looking fireplaces in place of central heat and air…

Madge's house is a disaster waiting to happen.

Why don't her parents taken the time to update the place? Bring it up to code, make it safe for their daughter?

They bothered with the outside, had put siding over the peeling paint and ancient wood years ago, Gale remembers driving past it. Madge keeps the garden and flower beds nice, weeded and watered, plants new flowers with each season.

Even the inside is carefully maintained, but only superficially.

It's clean, which is Madge's doing. All lighting has been updated, but the wiring had simply been worked around, probably done on the cheap by someone who knew better but didn't care, definitely unsafe. The faucet heads, all the handles and fixtures, have been changed out, but the lead piping, which is rusting and nearing the end of its life, is still intact.

The walls are all bare except for a few paintings that look old and expensive, no family portraits, no drawings or report cards pinned to the fridge, no laundry on the couch. The guest bathroom even has an expensive, stupid looking hand towel you really aren't supposed to use hanging in it.

Madge's home is just a house. Staged for maximum beauty, but when you scratch the surface, it's a complete mess.

The only rooms that ever feel liked they've been lived in are Madge's bedroom and her bathroom. She's careful to pick up after herself in the living room and, on the rare occasion she uses it, the kitchen. From what Gale could tell she's existed by mooching off the Mellarks and making microwave dinners before he came along and insisted she come to eat with him and his family almost nightly.

Gale pushes himself up, wipes his hands on his pants, smearing some of the traces of pipe rust across his thigh. Shit. His mother is going to kill him.

Madge's eyebrows knit together, her nose wrinkles in irritation at herself, "I'm sorry I didn't get it fixed."

Gale sighs. It isn't her job to get things like leaky pipes fixed, or the roof, or electrical fixtures, that's her absentee parents' job. She's sixteen, too young to be keeping up with those kind of things.

She won't see it that way, though. She's been left to her own devices too long, been given too much responsibility. Madge will see it as her failing.

Just like her house, Madge is perfect on the outside, all the pieces people see shine and glisten, but just like her house, Gale knows she's one rough season from going to pieces. Whether she realizes it or not.

He grabs her hands, hauls her up from her seat and throws her over his shoulder.

"Gale!" She squeals, tries to wiggle free but he makes it to the bed and tosses her down before he begins tickling her.

Madge tries to bat him away, but she's almost comically ticklish.

He catches her wrists, leans in and kisses her quickly before burying his face in her sweet smelling hair, "I'm not mad at you, alright?"

He's pissed beyond belief at her parents for not being around to be parents, but not her.

It isn't anger or pity that's turning his stomach, she would hate that, but worry that she'll let herself fall apart and not let him know. He's watched her from the outside for so long, never realizing what her life is really like, she keeps up her appearances well, but he doesn't want her to keep him at arm's length.

"If you need something, you let me know, okay?" He kisses her temple, "I don't want you living in a deathtrap."

She wraps her arms around his neck, presses her lips to his ear, "You just think you look good fixing stuff around the house."

I do.

"Whatever," he starts kissing down her neck, then back up, catching her lips. His hands wander down, begin toying with the bottom hem of her tank top. This was definitely one of those times he was grateful for the independence.


	5. Love me tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

April, Sophomore Year

Prom was definitely not what Madge had imagined. It wasn't supposed to be so stressful.

Madge had gotten up at the crack of dawn to help Delly and the other 'volunteers' set up before heading to get her hair and makeup done. Her tulle swags had been on full display, doused in a healthy dose of what Delly had affectionately called 'diamond dust'. It was glitter. Horrible, impossible to get rid of, glitter. She'd ended up coated in the stuff.

"You just have to resign yourself to being a human disco ball," Birdy Alameda, one of the college girls that worked at Madge's favorite coffee shop, had told her after the tenth or eleventh attempt to dust herself off.

The other girl, Katy-Jo Lewes, had nodded, handing Madge her favorite caramel frappuccino, "Might as well get the bedazzler out and get your dress to match, hon."

Then her hair was a complete disaster. Pretty enough, but stiff as a board, if it wasn't in curls it would've likely put out someone's eye. They'd used an entire jar of some kind of super sculpting gel and two cans of hairspray to get it to stay in place. Madge was fairly certain it would take her several days to wash it all out.

After that she'd decided to do her own makeup. The way her day was going, it was best just to make herself look like a clown instead of let the lunatic makeup artist at the mall do it for her.

When Gale showed up at her door, Mr. Abernathy had answered, glared him down, and proceeded to ask him twenty different questions.

"Where are you going to eat?"

"What time are you getting to the dance?"

"What time are you leaving?"

"Where are you going after?"

"What time will you be bringing her home?"

All things he'd already asked Madge and received the answers to a dozen times the week leading up to the dance itself.

After getting Gale's number, then begrudgingly taking pictures for the parents, he'd let them go, but not before telling Madge he'd wait up for her.

She had no doubt he would try, but Mr. Abernathy was usually out like a light before the ten o'clock news.

Gale sighed, ran his hands through his hair and reverting it to its naturally unruly state, when he finally got her in the truck, which he'd apparently meticulously scrubbed and vacuumed out.

"I, uh, got you a little flower thing."

He pulled a corsage, a simple, single white lily with a silver ribbon, from the dash and looked at it for a second.

"My mom picked it out. I didn't know what color your dress was."

Madge hadn't even known what color her dress was going to be until the day before. It had been such short notice most of the dresses at the mall had been incredibly picked over. They were either not her size or hideous. If Peeta hadn't suggested they go to the second hand store she might've just called Gale, in a disgusting sobbing mess, and cancelled.

In the end they'd found a simple lavender dress. It didn't have straps, so she'd had to buy a strapless bra, something Peeta had been dumbfounded by. It was uncomfortable and itchy and constantly felt like it was slipping, but she was down to the wire and out of options.

She'd borrowed her mother's diamond pendant on a silver necklace and tennis bracelet, a pair of dangly earrings, and dug through her closet until she found her lone pair of heels. They were black, but she didn't care, her dress was long enough no one would see them anyway.

Madge carefully slipped the corsage on her wrist. She thought it was supposed to pin to her dress, but considering she was already having a hard enough time keeping the stupid thing from falling down without the added weight of flowers, and the fact that Gale's hands seemed abnormally sweaty, she decided it was for the best not to even try.

They'd picked a little Italian restaurant for dinner, which Madge quickly realized was a terrible idea. Both she and Gale spent most of the meal trying desperately not to flip sauce on themselves.

Halfway through it Madge had panicked, thinking she'd forgotten to put on deodorant. She'd dropped her utensils and run to the bathroom to check under her arms, praying the whole time that she didn't have enormous pit stains.

It turned out she had remembered to put some on, but she still felt a tinge of anxiety about Gale reaching around her waist to dance and feeling her sweating buckets through her dress.

As they finally make it to the dance, she regrets the dinner even more for being just a tad too heavy. She's positive that if she tries to 'bust a move', as Peeta had put it, she might just bust a seam as well.

When she takes in the end product of Delly's madness she's a little underwhelmed.

After all the preparation Delly had put into it, Madge expects something a little grander, a little more pizzazz, and a little less cheese. It didn't have to be Grease and it definitely didn't have to be Carrie, but maybe just a touch of Footloose, for the music at least, wouldn't have been bad.

Since the time Madge had left, very little had been done.

They've set up a few tables, stung out what appears to be several dozen rolls of crepe paper from the ceiling, making the entire gym look a bit like a circus tent, and tossed more glitter, apparently without any particular rhyme or reason, all over the floor.

Well, at least it's definitely not Carrie.

"The tulle is nice," Gale says, his eyebrows knitting together.

Madge snorts, "Thanks."

She watches as Gale surveys the party. Probably looking for someone he knows. Madge doesn't bother, she only knows a handful of upperclassmen and the only one she knows well enough to hang around with is Rhys Mellark, and he hadn't come.

Gale finally spots one of his football buddies, Thom. He's gangly and a bit uncoordinated from what Madge had seen, but he's enthusiastic and she supposes that counts for something. His date is a girl Madge vaguely recognizes. She's tall like Gale and Thom, a bit on the thin side, olive skinned and dark headed too, but she has a harder look about her than the boys. Like she's suspicious of something.

When Gale gestures for Madge to follow, she gets a flutter of nervousness. She still isn't certain of all this. If Gale's friends don't like her, if she says something wrong or offends them, she still thinks he might leave her.

That would be her luck.

The girl gives her a tight, but friendly enough smile and Thom grins brightly.

"I thought he was pissin' in the wind when he told me you were coming with him."

Madge nods, her queasiness abates a little.

For a few minutes the three upperclassmen chat and Madge watches the dancing. The music choices are a little predictable, Madge likes most of it well enough, but when the Macarena begins, her tolerance wanes.

Finally, the DJ comes over the outdated sound system. It pops and cracks before his voice booms overhead.

"Alright, kids, I'm gonna slow it down for a couple of the chaperones celebrating their anniversary tonight. So here's an oldie but a goodie!"

To Madge's relief, the always soothing voice of The King drifts over them lazily. She sighs. She's been so keyed up over the preparations, getting ready, not rubbing her disgusting sweat all over Gale, that it's the first truly enjoyable moment of the night.

"You wanna dance?" Gale has his hands in his pockets, looking a little uncertain.

She's terrified of smelling, being slick with sweat, but nods, they're at a dance after all.

As discreetly as she can, she rubs the perspiration from her palms and takes Gales hand. It's a little clammy too, so she gives him a reassuring smile.

Somewhat timidly, Gale puts on of his hands at her waist, fumbles and grabs her fingers before correcting himself. She almost fixes his hands, he's all backwards unless he wants her to lead, but then she remembers from class he's left-handed.

They dance stiffly for a minute before Madge decides they're both being stupid. He's every bit as nervous as she is. They need to relax.

Before she can think it through, realize how ridiculous she's going to look, Madge pushes forward, wraps her arms around his middle and pressed her ear to his sternum. Gale makes a startled noise and she grimaces. He probably thinks she's suffering from pasta intoxication.

Then, hesitantly, he wraps his arms around her shoulders. His cheek comes to rest on the top of her head.

The tension that had hung around them since he'd picked her up seems to evaporate.

Madge inhales deeply, he's wearing the cologne from their first 'date'.

As the song ends she feels a little puff of warmth, as he exhales, blow through her stiff hair.

"Hey," she hears him swallow, feels his Adam's apple bob against her head, "you wanna get outta here?

Madge chuckles, "You have no idea."

#######

They get pancakes, double chocolate chip, from the Waffle House, and even have the waitress put whip cream smiley faces on them. Madge doesn't even care that it makes her dress incrementally tighter.

Gale goes into the dollar store and buys a cheap plastic comb and they spend an hour trying to right her hair in the cab of his truck.

"It's like my sister's doll's hair," he tells her as he gently works a curl out.

"I suffered this pain for you," she wrinkles her nose. He could at least appreciate it. "I just wanted to be pretty."

His eyebrows knit together, "But you're always pretty."

Madge snorts. He obviously hasn't seen her after cross-country practice. Pretty is the exact opposite of what she is then.

"What?" He looks genuinely confused, "You are."

"You're very sweet. A humongous liar, but sweet."

He runs his hands through her now gel-less and hairspray-less tresses, pulls her face forward until her lips are softly pressed to his.

When he stops he dips a little, his nose nuzzles into her neck. She can feel his lips move against her skin, his warm breath skitter down the back of her dress when he speaks, "I'm no liar."

His hands find their way down to her waist as he starts kissing her neck and collar bone and she starts to giggle.

Gale pulls back, a mischievous grin forming on his face, "Are you ticklish?"

She is, horribly so.

Quickly, probably too quickly, she shakes her head.

"Liar."

Before Madge can mount a proper defense he begins poking and prodding her, breaking her down into a mess of laughter as she tries to worm away.

He pulls her back, kisses down her neck as he continues his tickle attack.

"You called me a liar, but I was telling the truth." His nose presses into the space behind her ear, "You are always beautiful."

She's just started to wind down from laughing when he starts tickling her again, "You, though, you are a liar." He kisses her jaw just under her ear, "You are the most ticklish person I've ever met."

When he finally feels she's sufficiently suffered for her fib, they settle into a series of long kisses that only stop when they're both breathless and panting.

They spend the rest of the night, up until the time Madge had promised Mr. Abernathy she would be home, with Madge pointing out constellations for Gale from the back of his pick-up.

Prom may not have gone as Madge had thought it would, but the aftermath had been worth the trouble.


	6. Tear in my beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

November, Sophomore Year

Madge hates pep rallies.

They give her headaches, both from the loudness and the combined stupidity of her classmates. The only good thing about them is they get her out of class, and mess up the other classes for the day, almost guaranteeing a 'no homework' night and a gloriously free day during class.

This particular rally is for the wrestling team, and they never get enough recognition, especially considering they are one of the best in the state. Peeta had even won some fancy pants match last year, got a big ring to show for it.

Delly is in charge, and it had only been by the most cruel of coercions that Madge had decided to help.

"We need volunteers," she'd pleaded. "Don't you want Peeta to have a good send off for the first match of the year?"

That's low.

So instead of going home for lunch, she's trapped in the field house with Delly, the few wrestling cheerleaders, including Chesney and Pressley, making 'goodie' bags and decorations for the wrestling boys' lockers.

Madge watches as an overly excited Delly opens yet another bag of candy, it looks like sweettarts, but she isn't certain.

"You realize they can't eat this candy, right?" Wrestling boys are very particular about food, making weight. It seems a bit cruel to taunt them with sweet treats when they won't touch them until spring. Madge often worries about Peeta's eating habits during the season.

This seems lost on Delly, who despite the other girls nods of agreement with Madge, presses on.

"They can have just a little."

They probably could, but they wouldn't.

Chesney shrugs, tosses several chocolates into her current bag. It isn't worth arguing with Delly once she's made her mind up, however wrong it may be.

Madge shifts on her seat, an empty plastic sack. She'd flat out refused to sit on the sweat soaked ground in the field house. It was disgusting. Why Delly wouldn't just let them make these stupid things in the girls' locker room, she didn't know.

An icy blast hits them as the door to the field house opens, bringing in bits of dried grass and dead leaves with it.

Gale and one of his friends, Thom, tumble in, followed by an exasperated Katniss. They look around, obviously confused by a gaggle of glitter covered girls sitting in what Madge thinks they probably consider the last bastion of total manliness. Except for Katniss, of course, very few girls venture into the disgusting place.

"Uh, what are you doing in here?" Thom asks.

Delly gives him a bright look, "Making decorations for the wrestlers."

For some reason Gale looks annoyed by this, his eyebrows scrunch together in a scowl. He eyes the glue and glitter names the girls have so carefully made for each of the boys' lockers and huffs, seeing the mess they've made of the ground.

"I hope you all are planning on cleaning up the floor," he jabs his finger at the globs of glitter and shards of construction paper they've half-heartedly attempted to sweep up.

It was a little funny to Madge that he was annoyed with a mess of crafting supplies when he'd just brought a pile of autumn detritus in with him.

Chesney and Pressley nod stupidly at him.

"Absolutely," Chesney says. She waves her hand at the bench she'd been sitting on, "Did you come in to work out? I can move."

She nearly trips trying to stand, almost knocks the still stupidly grinning Pressley over when she does, not that the other girl notices.

"Uh, no," Gale shoots Thom and Katniss a baffled little look. His nose scrunches up and one of his eyebrows arches while the other crunches down on his eye. Madge would almost qualify it as cute, bordering on adorable, if not for his previous attitude.

"We just came to get something out of the ice box," Thom tells them.

Madge nearly snorts with laughter at the looks of utter disappointment on Chesney and Pressley's faces. They'd probably had their hopes up that he'd start stripping off layers right there. He was pretty notorious for it, actually.

Katniss looks bored as she picks up one of Delly's creations, a unitard with the words 'Go Peeta!' shimmering in sparkle glue across it.

Delly instantly senses blood in the water, "Do you want to h-"

"No."

More like 'hell no'.

"Are you su-"

"Yes."

Katniss Everdeen, with her quick appraisal of the situation, had done what Madge had often dreamed of doing: giving Delly Cartwright a sharp and decisive decline.

Before Delly can press the issue further, Katniss turns and walks out.

"I'll meet you guys at the truck," she calls back to Gale and Thom, not even looking back.

Thom brushes past the girls, to the fridge at the back of the building. Madge assumes they keep ice and cold packs for the football players in it, but for some unknown reason Thom is pulling what appears to be a ziplock bag out of the chilly, and assuredly disgusting, depths.

"What the hell is that?" Madge asks before realizing she reallydoesn't want to know.

Thom hoists his plastic bag high, smiles at it fondly, "Squirrel." He jiggles it a little. The fridge obviously hadn't made the poor thing solidly chilled enough, Madge can see a bit of something brownish, presumably blood, pooled at the bottom, slushily moving with each of Thom's movements.

"We killed it during weightlifting yesterday. It had set up house over coach's office, was driving him 'nuts'," Thom laughs at his own joke.

Pressley rolls her eyes and actually groans.

Boys are so weird.

Madge just barely stops herself from asking why, for the love of all things dear and precious, they had decided to save the poor thing in the fridge. She's heard Katniss and Gale discussing various 'jerkies' during class, so she's pretty sure she knows the little guys fate.

A little juice drips from the bag, onto the floor with a splatter and forming a tiny puddle, there must be a hole in it. It takes some effort to keep from gagging at the sight.

Delly makes a noise of disgust, "Ew! Get that thing out of here."

"You got it," Gale chuckles. He waves a hand, "Toss that bad boy to me Thom."

Laughing, Thom takes the bag and tosses it at Gale. Madge knows nothing good is going to come of it the moment it leaves Thom's spindly hand.

It arches over the group of girls, leaving a trail of blood arching through the air in its wake.

The force from the throw, the pressure from Gale's hands catching it, must be too much, because as soon as it is in his hands the flimsy, leaky bag breaks.

Wet, cold squirrel blood explode just above Madge's head, splattering in her hair, drizzling down her face and onto her clothes.

Delly's mouth drops. Chesney, Pressley, and the other cheerleaders make squealing noises before bursting into giggles.

"Whoops," Thom grimaces, makes a conciliatory little shrug.

Madge presses her mouth shut, she doesn't want blood in her mouth. Her entire body trembles as she stands, turns and looks at a visibly pale Gale.

He still has the busted bag clutched in his hands, his knuckles are a little white.

"Un-Madge, I-uh-I-"

He doesn't get to finish whatever he's going to say, Madge bolts from the main weight area, to the bathrooms. She has to get the squirrel blood off her.

There's a mirror over the sink, cracked and filthy. When she looks in it she sees streaks of blood in her blonde hair.

Fighting down the bile burning her throat, shaking, and the tears leaking out the corners of her eyes, she tries to get her head in the sink. She wants to wash the horrible blood off but she can't touch it.

Oh god, oh god, oh god!

She's decided to drown herself in the shallow little sink, if she can't get it out it's her only option, when a hand gently runs through her hair. With a little splash she begins seeing red wash down the sink.

"I, uh, some of the Freshmen must've messed with it," Gale's deep voice floats down to her. "We warned them not to try and gut it. They probably tore the bag too."

Madge tries to jerk away from him, but ends up hitting her head on the faucet in the process.

"Be careful," Gale tells her as he guides her out from under the tap.

Straightening out, she shoots him a glare, sniffles, before checking the mirror. Her eyes are red and puffy, she must've cried a lot more than she realized, and her hair is soaked. On the plus side the squirrel blood is gone now.

Her clothes are still splattered with red, it could be ketchup if she didn't know better.

Gale hands her a towel. It's probably dirty, heaven only knows how often they do laundry in the field house.

"No, thanks," her voice cracks and she wills herself not to burst into tears.

Hands held out in front of her, Madge doesn't want to touch her clothes, she rushes past him. She's going to the girls' locker room up at the main school and putting on her gym clothes then she's taking the afternoon off.

If getting covered in squirrel innards isn't an excused absence, then what is?

"Delly, I'm done."

As if that isn't abundantly clear. Which for Delly, it might not be.

Practically running out the door, leaving behind the giggling girls, she's halfway up to the school when she realizes she freezing not only because of the wind and her wet hair, but because she's left her coat back in the field house, draped over one of the weight racks. Damn.

Deciding it isn't worth going back and facing the undoubtedly still snickering girls, Madge ducks into the side door to the gym, down the back hall, and into the girls' locker room.

She contemplates firing up the ancient showers that no one uses, they've actually appropriated them for storage closets of sorts since Madge's mother was in school, but when she sees a spider and several nasty looking webs, decides against it.

Pulling a garbage bag out for her clothes, she's going to burn them, burn them to dust, she pulls her top and skirt off, throwing the blood splattered garments quickly in.

Behind her, she hears the door creak open and drop shut.

She expects Delly to peak around the corner, Chesney and Pressley are probably still giggling with the other cheerleaders and Madge wouldn't want them seeing her nasty hair anyway. For all her faults, Delly at least looks in on the less fortunate, even if it's partly her fault they're in their unfortunate state in the first place.

"I'm fine Delly," Madge calls over her shoulder. She isn't really, but there's nothing to be done about it.

It isn't Delly's blonde head and blue eyes that gaze back at her, though, when Madge looks in the mirror.

Gale, with a little grimace on his face, towel still in hand, is watching her trying to pick a stubborn knot out of her hair. His mouth drops a little after he swallows, Madge can see his Adam's apple bob.

She's glad he hadn't come in a few minutes early, he'd have gotten an eyeful and added to Madge's miserable day.

"I'm so sorry."

Right.

Glaring, Madge turns to look at him, feels tears prickling her eyes. "This is the girls'locker room."

In other words: Get out.

He takes a step toward her, "I didn't-I, uh…"

It almost looks like hemight cry. Probably worried she's going to tell his coach or the principal or something. As if it would do any good. What punishment was there for keeping a dead squirrel in the fridge anyhow? Or accidentally spraying its blood all over an underclassmen?

Probably none.

Besides, Gale was their little football star, even if the season was over, they weren't going to punish him. Especially if he stuck to the story that the Freshmen had tampered with he and Thom's little trophy.

"I'm really sorry." He tries handing her the towel again. She takes it just to get him to stop. Over his arm is something else: her coat.

When he sees her eyes flicker to it he takes it, a little clumsily, and holds it out to her. "It's freezing and you forgot it."

With a little nod, Madge snatches it from his hand, throws it around her shoulders to hide her pitiful gym shirt and short.

"I, uh-You didn't drive today," he says suddenly. Why he's deciding to point out that fact she isn't sure, other than to let her know she's stranded at the school at least until Peeta gets back from lunch. Gale takes a deep breath, "I, uh, could drive you to your house, you know, so you could get warmer clothes…"

"I'm going to call Peeta. He's my ride."

For some reason that makes him scowl, "Well, it'd be quicker if I took you."

Why he thinks a girl he's just doused in the ooey gooey blood of a rodent would want to sit in close quarters with him, she isn't sure. Maybe one too many hits to the head during the state championship?

She shoots him a withered look, is about to tell him to leave or she's going to scream, his coach would have one heck of a time explaining his being in the girls' locker room, when Katniss comes around the corner, glowering.

"Delly called Peeta for you. He said he's on his way," she tells Madge before turning to Gale. "You need to get your butt out of here."

Gale shoots Katniss a small look, somewhere between grateful and annoyed, before glancing back at Madge. He sighs, "I'm sorry."

He is, she can tell, but she's still angry.

Not really sure what to do, she believes him, but she's past horrified, she sighs, "I know. I won't get you in trouble. Don't worry."

That doesn't make him look much happier, in fact, Madge thinks he almost looks more upset by her acceptance than he had originally.

Looking a little pale, he leaves, casting one last pitiful look at Madge before he does.

Katniss gives Madge a once over before shrugging, "You got it all out."

"I'm still going home."

Unlike Katniss, who was some kind of survivalist, Madge doesn't play in animal innards on a regular basis. Or ever. Madge doesn't even like making hamburger patties.

With another shrug, Katniss sits on the concrete benching in front of the lockers.

"Gale didn't mean for that to happen," she says. "Those idiots use the same ziplocks over and over again. They get holes in them."

Nodding, Madge doesn't really understand why Katniss is adding to Gale's apology, explaining him to her. They're friends, that's sufficient enough reason, Madge supposes. Still…

"You know how boys are when they get around their friends, and, uh, girls," she adds. "They try to show off."

If showing off entails tossing dead animals around and busting their containers over the heads of innocent bystanders, Madge just doesn't understand the mental workings of teenage boys.

Peeta and his brothers would never act like that, she's certain of it. Though, honestly, they don't have the opportunity to toss things at her, like squirrels.

"Well, if they were aiming to impress the other girls with their feat of stupidity and embarrassing me, bravo," Madge runs her fingers through a knot in her hair.

Katniss grumbles something, Madge can't quite make it out, then she sighs, "Just…remember he's sorry."

Madge wrinkles her nose, "I know. I won't get him in trouble."

There's a knock on the door, it creaks open and Madge hears a soft male voice call in, "Madge? You in there?"

Thank god.

"I need a ride home." I'm never coming back.

"Alright, darling, get out here. I only have ten minutes to get you there and back."

Snatching up her trash bag of clothes and throwing on her coat, Madge heads around the corner and out the door, Katniss right behind her.

Peeta, who'd been slouching against the opposite wall, perks up when Katniss appears behind Madge.

"You need a ride too?" He looks beside himself, like his birthday had come early.

Katniss frowns, shakes her head, "Just talking to Madge." She tilts her head slightly at the other girl, "See you tomorrow."

With that she's gone, down the hall and out the door.

Peeta deflates again. He gives Madge a small smile, "Maybe next time, right?"

Despite the fact that Madge doesn't think so, she gives him a small smile, "Sure."

Making a face, Peeta gives Madge's trash bag a little kick, "So…you wanna tell me what happened?"

#######

Gale slumps in the driver's seat of his truck.

He has the worst luck. Absolutely horrendous.

"You don't have bad luck," Katniss tells him as she crosses her arms, watches Madge and Peeta exit the school. "You make shitty choices."

Thom nods sagely from her other side, "Yeah, you told me to throw it."

Aren't friends supposed to make you feel better when bad stuff happens?

"But, yeah, you have bad luck too," Thom finally says, biting off a hank of deer jerky.

How many guys accidentally splattered the girl they liked in blood? Animal blood at that, not that any blood would've been acceptable, but still, a squirrel?

Now Mellark is getting to be the knight in shining armor, taking her home and saving the day, while Gale is the jerk that ruined her polo and skirt. It just wasn't fair.

He watches Madge, arms curled around her body, tucked into her coat pockets as she pads along beside Mellark. She must be recounting the incident to him because he grimaces, then laughs. Madge punches him in the arm.

Gale slumps further in his seat.

"If Peeta is laughing he'll get her to laugh too," Katniss says. "She'll get over it."

Why Katniss is such a Peeta Mellark expert he doesn't really know. She's never shown much interest in him, or any guy for that matter. There are worst boys she could be fascinated with, he supposes. If Mellark were distracted with her maybe he'd spend less time with Madge…

He still doubts Madge is going to 'get over' it, though. This isn't knocking her note cards down the hall or even splattering her with gravy. This is so much worse.

If he'd ever had a chance with her before, he's blown it now.

#######

Peeta's laughter eases the embarrassment.

"Come on," he finally says once they're in his car. "You have to admit…it's a little funny."

She crosses her arms tightly across her middle, glares over at him. It is not funny.

"I've got blood in my hair," she reaches up, tugs at a strand. "From a rodent.A cousin of a mouse."

It is not funny.

Still chuckling, Peeta nods. They drive in silence for a few minutes, down the few blocks to her house before he attempts to talk again.

"You know, they didn't know the bag would bust," he says. "I'm sure Gale felt bad. He's a nice guy, clearly not the best judgment, but nice."

Now Peeta was defending Gale to her. Great.

"I'm just saying, he probably is sorry. It could've happened to, uh, well not anyone." Clearly. "But it wasn't malicious. Go easy on him."

#######

Madge had helped with the locker decorations on Friday, put the pointless goodie bags in too, but Delly's persuasiveness hadn't convinced her to be a part of the actual disaster that will be the rally.

Katniss looks as bored as ever as she walks just ahead of their group from class into the gym for the much anticipated pep rally. She slouches over, to the farthest end of the bleachers, up to the top, before collapsing down. Madge decides to sit next to her. Normally she sits with Peeta, but seeing as Peeta is part of the pep rally, as is Delly, her only other real option is sitting alone.

"Do they have to be so…"

"Peppy?" Madge offers.

Katniss grunts.

The name pep rally had obviously not properly clarified what kind of attitude was going to be expected.

Gale and two of his friends, Thom and a girl, make their way through gawking Freshmen and up to where Katniss is.

The girl takes a seat, but Gale and Thom spot Madge and stop on the row below, eyeing her warily.

She's still a little grossed out that she'd recently had blood in her hair and on her clothes, but Peeta had finally gotten her to laugh at the disaster. It is a little funny, with some distance between it and now.

"You aren't going to knock us down the stairs are you?" Thom asks.

Madge makes a thoughtful face, "No, but I might throw my dissected frog at your heads."

Thom laughs, flops down, but Gale stays standing.

He's a little pale, maybe still worried she's going to get him in trouble, so she forces a small smile.

"Oh, come on, it would be only fair, right?" She holds up her hands, as if weighing the two, "Squirrel guts has got to be comparable to frog guts."

Gale seems to consider her for a minute, looks slightly sick, before his shoulders relax his lips seem to turn up just a fraction. His eyes flicker to Katniss, then back to Madge, "You aren't mad?"

She arches her eyebrows, "Oh, I'm furious, but I'll get you back."

It may take the next two years, but she will get him back.

He seems content with that, takes the seat in front of her. Madge sees Thom jab him in the side with his elbow, a congratulations for not getting in any trouble she thinks, because Gale brightens, the color on his face darkens.

She shrugs it off as the band begins to play; those boys haven't won anything, even if they think they have.

The pep rally is loud, obnoxious, and for the first time Madge is disappointed to miss class. She has a disgusting frog with Gale Hawthorne's name written on it in the lab…if she can just get herself to touch it.


	7. Only make believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

October, Freshman Year

Madge is almost asleep, first hour is painfully early and feels way too long for a high school class.

Normally, she enjoys history. She and Peeta love 'Band of Brothers' and 'The Pacific' and she's watched so many documentaries over almost every period in human history that it's almost embarrassing. History class on the other hand…

Madge is pretty sure she's learned more historically accurate information in earth science than she has in almost two months of world history with Coach Cray.

She'd given him a chance, the first few weeks, and then he made them watch 'Pearl Harbor'. Not that she didn't appreciate seeing Josh Harnett, she did, but that was about the only thing she enjoyed about watching the multi-day waste of time. It almost physically pained her to watch it, and she nearly strangled Chesney everytime she replayed scenes.

She's jolted awake by someone flopping down in the front of her row, jarring her desk and knocking her pencil onto the floor with a little clatter. Not that the giant that caused the disturbance even noticed.

Gale Hawthorne, looking like he'd put the barest minimal into his morning routine, seemed blissfully unaware that he'd made himself a nuisance just by sitting, with all the grace of a drunken moose, in his regular seat.

Sighing, Madge leans down and grabs her pencil from the floor, shoots the animatedly jabbering boys a dark look, then sits back, slouching down and hoping to catch a nap before the next hour.

Just as she's drifting off again, gripping her writing utensil in her hand, Coach Cray comes into the room, looking annoyed and grumbling to himself, rubbing his blood shot eyes. He drops into his ancient chair behind his desk, it creaks loudly, and begins thumbing through one of several papers on his desk. Madge thinks they're probably notes on football practice, because lord knows having anything to do with the subject he supposedly teaches on his desk would be a high crime.

After a few minutes he stands, stretches, then barks out at the class, "Shut up." He squints out at them, seems utterly annoyed at having to be in their presence, which Madge can commiserate with, then cracks his neck, "Alright, I've been told that someone complained about the lack of supposed structure in this class." He huffs, as though the idea is ludicrous, "So you bunch of ingrates have earned yourselves a report."

The room lets out an almost synchronized groan.

While Madge thinks the class is a bit of a joke, she can live with it. She uses the hour to catch up on homework for other classes, watch Chesney fix her hair in elaborate curls, eat breakfast, or, most importantly, catch a nap before the long day. A report is going to majorly cut into her beauty sleep.

Racking her brain, Madge can think of only person who would ever complain about a lack of work in a class.

Delly Cartwright is definitely on Madge's shit list.

Chesney raises her hand, "Do we have to?"

Coach Cray sneers, "Yes, Shumard, you do."

He turns back to the whiteboard, begins scribbling in his cuneiform scrawl the requirements of the report. When he reaches the third point, which Madge is unable to decipher, he stops. For a second Madge wonders if he's finally blown an artery. Then a wicked smile forms on his face.

"I think you kids need some bonding time," he turns back to the class. "This report will be done in pairs."

#######

Gale almost groans out loud when Coach Cray barks out, "Hawthorne and, uh…Undersee."

Of all the people to get saddled with for this joke of a report, it had to be her.

Why couldn't he have gotten Shumard? At least she didn't dress like she just walked out of a J. Crew ad. If he's going to be stuck working with someone it might as well be someone worth looking at.

Not that Undersee isn't pretty, he just thinks she'd be a lot prettier if she loosened up a little. She takes this high school crap way too seriously.

Knowing he isn't going to enjoy the next forty-five minutes, at least not today, Gale gets up and slowly makes his way to the back of the room where Undersee likes to lurk. He isn't sure why, Coach loves her, all the teachers do, but she seems to be trying to position herself as far from the teacher's eye line as possible.

Looking less than thrilled, Undersee stands and picks up her heavy looking backpack. Did she carry all her books with her?

"Did you get our subject?"

Gale holds up the slip of paper with Coach's illegible scribble on it.

She juts out her hand, perfectly manicured and undoubtedly soft, an expectant look on her face. Rolling his eyes, Gale plops it down, with more force than is really necessary, in her palm.

Her nose wrinkles up and she pushes a stray strand of hair out of her face. She seems to be thinking about the word on the paper, which Gale is clueless about, before nodding.

"Should we start with looking it up?" Because he's half certain Coach made it up.

Giving him a look that plainly says 'why would I do that?', Undersee shakes her head, "I know what it is."

Of course she would, she's just the type of girl to have all kinds of obscure knowledge tucked away in her blonde head. It's probably some stupid type of dress. Coach probably did it for a good laugh.

"Well," he raises his eyebrows, "care to fill me in?"

A little smile tugs at her lips and she waves the little paper, "A trebuchet."

Wow. She's unhelpful incarnate. Did she assume just because he was a football player he didn't know how to read? Granted he hadn't known how to say the stupid word, but her teaching him the correct pronunciation isn't exactly helping him with what the damn word means.

Seeming to sense she hasn't exactly told him what he wants to know, she frowns, "Don't you know what a trebuchet is?"

Yeah, of course he does, he's just enjoying the witty rapport they have going on.

Eyebrows arching incrementally higher, he huffs, letting her know that no he does not.

"Oh, uh," she actually looks a little flustered. "It's an ancient catapult, basically."

Now you have my attention.

Shifting her backpack on her shoulder, he considers telling her that carrying it with one strap is terrible for your back, but doesn't, she begins animatedly describing this supposed medieval siege weapon.

It sounds stupid simple to him, a catapult that uses a counterweight to create the momentum and a sling to throw the unwanted delivery. How had he not heard of this before? More importantly, why the hell did Undersee know anything about weaponry? Shouldn't she have been studying fashion or reading a brightly colored magazine with completely bullshit articles in it?

While he's contemplating Madge Undersee's apparently extensive knowledge of ancient battle technology, she's shifted her backpack again, pulled out a notebook.

"It probably won't do much good, but I might as well go to the library. Ms. Poteau's collection probably has a few books from back when trebuchets were cutting edge."

Gale snorts. That was almost funny. Boring, but…funny.

Undersee scoots past him and up to Coach's desk, "Can I go to the library?"

Coach doesn't even look at her, just waves his hand in dismissal.

She must not think Gale is coming, and he would rather not, but that seems unfair.

Before he can follow her out the door, grab his pencil and paper from his desk, Coach calls out and waves him to his desk.

He gives Gale a scrutinizing look, "You don't have to go with her, you know?" Coach shifts in his chair and it lets out a high squeak, "Undersee's an academic overachiever. She'll have this report wrapped up by the end of the week. You just have to stand there."

Judging by the look Coach gives him, he must think he's given Gale a real treat. An easy 'A'.

It rubs Gale the wrong way though. He doesn't like the idea of her doing all the work. It isn't really in his nature to pass assignments off on someone else, even if he's certain she'd be perfectly happy to carry on without him. It also irks him that Coach would think Gale wouldn't, or possibly couldn't, do his own work. He isn't stupid or lazy, he just thinks most things in school are tedious.

Forcing a smile, Gale gives Coach a nod, "Thanks, I think I'll go to the library anyway."

Coach's smile widens, a little knowingly, though what for Gale isn't sure, before again waving his hand and letting Gale leave.

Gale's been in the library exactly twice. Once to pick a book for his freshmen English report the year before and once to return the stupid thing. The librarian is wicked, looks down on the students, they're a nuisance she has to put up with in exchange for getting to cocoon herself with her precious books, and he'd rather not deal with her.

When he walks into the library he instantly sneezes, the stupid books are heavy with dust, alerting the batty old woman he's there.

She juts a finger at him, "No drinks by the books, young man."

With a huff, Gale walks back out and drops his almost entirely full sport drink in the trash.

Slinking past her, he squints around the dimly lit room, searching for Undersee. She can't have gotten far and the room isn't that big, but she's small, it may take some time to find her.

He begins at the edge and works his way back, peaking through the rows of books. Finally, at the backmost shelve, he finally finds her, squinting down at a book that looks like it actually might've been around during a medieval battle.

She must not hear him come up, because she makes a funny little noise, a kind of squeak, when he leans over her back to read what she's so intently focused on.

"Please don't read over my back," she tells him, folding in on herself a little.

Shrugging, some people are just weird like that, he takes the book from her hand, "What'd you find?"

Her mouth tilts down, "Nothing I didn't already know." She tucks that loose strand back behind her ear again, "Since the written section only has to be four pages, though, I really don't need much. It's the citation section that's going to be a pain."

While Gale is still trying to process her saying 'only has to be four pages', emphasis on only, she's still carrying on.

"We can go to the public library after school. Unlike our penny pinching school, they actually have computers, so we can get resources there too…"

Gale hands her the book back, "I have football practice after school."

She looks a little annoyed for a moment, her lip puckers and her eyebrows scrunch together. A second later she sighs, "Yeah, figured."

That little flare of annoyance flickers in his chest again. He has to go to practice. Football is his ticket out of this dead end town. His grades aren't bad, they could be better, but even if they were, that isn't what's going to pay his way in life. Just because she's got family money to burn doesn't mean they all have.

Still, he isn't going to put all the work on her, he isn't a slacker and he won't give her reason to say he is. And she seemed to want, maybe even expect him to help her with it, which is a little refreshing. He'd expected her to think along Coach's line, that Gale could ride her pretty little skirt tail to an 'A'.

"I'll come after."

Undersee shakes her head, bites her lip, "No, that's too late."

"I'll be the one hurting for it." He's the one that has to drive home out in the Seam, he'll be the one wasting precious sleep time working on this stupid project, he'll be the one with a cold dinner…

"Yeah, but the library closes before your practice ends."

Oh. He hadn't really thought about that.

She shifts her backpack again, scrunches up her nose, "Well, like I said, I won't need much. I can do the research at home if you can't make it to the library. Maybe this weekend we can meet up and figure out what we need to do for the project part?"

Gale would rather spend his weekend fishing or hunting with his dad, Katniss, and her dad, but if meeting Undersee this Saturday meant he didn't have to see her the next then he's all for it. The quicker this stupid assignment ends the better as far as he's concerned.

"Fine by me."

#######

The next day when Gale flops down into the seat in front of Madge, once again knocking her pencil to the floor, she bites her lips and tries not to snap at him. She just has to get through this stupid assignment then she can go back to napping through Coach Cray's pointless class.

"You, uh, find some stuff?"

Chewing her tongue, Madge pulls her red history folder from her backpack and opens it on the desk, revealing the perfectly typed rough draft of she and Gale's paper. She spins it around so he can see it.

For a second he just stares at it, like he's never seen a report before, then he scowls.

"You wrote it already?"

Madge just arches her eyebrows. Of course she had. It was only four pages, twelve font and double spaced, a bare bones report with all the requirements Coach Cray had lined out: main time period the weapon was used, its basic function, and whether it was still relevant today. Not exactly a challenge.

Gale looks a little more than offended though.

"I could've helped, you know?" He practically growls.

Ugh. Boys and their stupid pride.

"The research was practically done with one search and typing isn't exactly a two man job." It hadn't even taken an hour to wrap this joke up. What is his problem? She'd just saved them hours of wasted time they could be using on the main part of the report, the project.

Madge has been partnered with freeloaders before, and she isn't going to let Gale's lack of initiative tank her GPA.

He seems to have a little battle with himself, must be realizing she's moved them one step closer to not having to deal with one another again, weighing his feelings against the prospect of freedom from her. Freedom must win, because he scowls, lets out a little huff, then nods.

"Fine, but you have to ask me before you get all report happy again." He glares at her, "I can help."

Fixing her face in its most neutral expression, Madge nods, "Gale, we have two weeks to get this report done, and I've just wrapped up half of it." The mind numbing half. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as he stares at her. "It isn't that I didn't think you could do it, but I figured if we got the boring part out of the way we could move on to the fun stuff."

His eyebrows slowly arch up and his mouth flattens into a thin line. Clearly he doesn't see any fun in the foreseeable future, at least not as far as this report is concerned.

Hoping to appeal to the destructive side of him, Mr. Abernathy assures her all boys have one, Madge pulls out the sloppy sketch she'd made the night before as she'd skimmed the internet for legitimate resources for their report.

It's not very good, she's definitely no artist, but it gets the point across. She's diagrammed it to the best of her abilities, written out to the side what they'll need for the construction…

"Let's face it, Coach doesn't care much about the written portion," she smiles fondly down at her drawing. "So…we're going to build a trebuchet."

#######

Gale fails to see how building a trebuchet is going to be 'fun', especially with Undersee bossing him around.

He understands her reasoning, get the part she feels is easiest out of the way so they can focus on the part that Coach will undoubtedly care about, grade them on. It still annoys him though, that she's carrying on with the project like she's the only one doing anything in their two man group.

When she pulls out the diagram, not as polished as he expects from her, and looks so excited, though, he can't help but feel a little grateful for her eagerness to get going with things. Gale's never exactly enjoyed getting started with school projects or finishing them for that matter, but Undersee's determination infects him just a little. They're ahead of schedule, ahead of probably all the class, and it's only the second day.

It isn't until he squints at her neat, delicate handwriting along the margin that his enthusiasm wavers.

"All this crap is going to cost a lot." As much fun as it would be to make a full sized, well at least a fairly large, French catapult thing, he doesn't have the money to throw into a stupid school project. The lumbar alone just isn't in his price range.

She doesn't even look thrown by his tone, which is nothing short of terse.

"We're going to get it cheap, trust me."

Gale has the feeling she's either going to say her parents are going pony up the money or that they're going to rob a bank, and he's more inclined to commit the robbery than ask Undersee's parents for anything. Instead of either of those options, though, she just smiles.

"I know a place."

Assuming it'll be worth it to miss a meal and watch whatever grand little plan she has fall apart, she's far too sure of herself and it's starting to annoy him, Gale offers to drive her to her supposed 'place' during lunch.

They drive all the way to the edge of the city just North of town, a good ten minute drive, to what looks like some kind of yard sell from hell. It appears to be an old warehouse, but there are kitchen appliances and sofas, toilets and bathtubs, mismatched cabinets, doors, and window in semi-neat rows in the parking lot. Undersee's takes out a tape measure and begins walking purposefully, navigating past the ancient pink and blue toilets and a sink that look like the inside of a seashell, to the back of the lot, around the side of the building, to where assorted lumber is stacked.

It's marked cheap, someone has taken a marker and scribbled numbers on them. It doesn't look like the greatest lumber Gale's ever seen, but it's far from the worst. Undersee begins digging through them, crawling over them a little clumsily, attempting to find pieces to her liking. Each time she finds a candidate she measures it, then either grins or makes a small pout before pushing it to her right or left. Her skirt wraps around her legs, begins working its way up her thighs and she stops several times to push it back down, to Gale's slight disappointment.

"I think these will do," she points to the several on her right when Gale finally walks over to her. "You might want to check them thought. You're probably better with wood than I am."

He can't stop himself, he glares, "Why do you think that?"

Was it because he's poor? She thinks all people like him have some intrinsic knowledge of manual labor?

She straightens up, "Aren't you in woodwork?" Her nose wrinkles up again, "I thought you said you made your mother a table during class the other day…"

Feeling a little foolish for being so defensive, Gale nods. He had said that. Not to her though. "You eaves dropping, Undersee?"

That wayward strand of hair that seems to keep finding its way into her face gets pushed aside again as she rolls her eyes, "What else am I supposed to do during history?" She sighs, "You aren't exactly the quietest person, you know? The entire class got to hear about it right before you told Sal Sanderson about you and some girl up at the Slag Heap."

A flush of heat rises on his face, he's certain he looks like he's tanned an entire summer just standing in the autumn sun. Undersee climbs down from between the wood, just barely manages not to trip when her foot gets caught under one of the boards.

"You measure and make sure they'll work and I'm going to go get the screws and nails."

Annoyed at being bossed around, but pleasantly surprised at the prices marked on the wood, Gale quickly measures them before heading in the direction Undersee had disappeared in.

He finds her sifting carefully through a box of mismatched screws and nails, some bent and some so perfect they might've just come from a brand new box. She's started a little pile by her leg, where she's cross-legged on the cold concrete ground.

"They're having a special today. Fill up a bag for a dollar."

Flopping down beside her, Gale picks up one of the rusty nail, "What is this place?"

Madge doesn't look up, keeps looking through her find, "A restore store." At his confused look she continues, "They sell donated supplies and furniture and use the money to help build homes for families in need in the community." she squints at a nail, "I learned about it when my dad had me help at a build a few years back."

So for a good ten minutes Gale sits with her, digging in what he thinks is probably a tetanus salad, finding respectable and useable pieces. Once they have enough Undersee stands and dusts herself off, holds the bag up with a smile, "There's a dollar."

Before Gale knows what she's doing she's up at the counter, bartering over the prices of the already cheap supplies, it takes less than five minutes and Undersee has the elderly lady at the desk laughing, wheezing and coughing, speaking in an almost unintelligible gibberish. The old woman reaches out and pats Undersee on the shoulder with a warm smile.

"She says she'll give it to us all for half-price," Undersee finally tells Gale as she digs through her purse, pulling out a coin purse. "She has a soft spot for kids."

"I'll pay half," Gale quickly tells her. He doesn't know what half is going to be, not much judging by the prices on the wood, but he's going to pay his part.

Undersee holds up her hand, "You drove here and you're driving back, with all our supplies. I'll pay for the supplies and not pay you for gas, okay?"

Did she read minds or just spend all her time thinking of all the possible ways Gale could get upset with her? It's really annoying, whatever it is.

He doesn't want to say 'okay', he should pay half, but his gas is probably going to cost more than the wood, nails, and screws, and somehow that soothes him. He nods, "Fine."

#######

Madge has Gale ask the elderly woodshop teacher if they can use the drills, saws, and whatever other tools they'll need for their project during lunch.

"We can get the entire project done without any after school work or weekends if we just skip lunch the next few weeks."

It isn't a hardship on Madge really, Peeta is the only person she really eats with and he's got plenty of people he can go with if she isn't around. Gale on the other hand seems a little put out.

"But it's my lunch…"

His tune changes, though, when the trebuchet quickly starts taking form.

"This is going to be so awesome," he chuckles as he and Madge hoist the arm into place.

She holds it and he shoves a spare bit of pipe, thrown in with rope and the canvas for the sling by old Mags at her resale store, through the axis. When he gets it secured they both step back and admire their handiwork.

It's not pretty, not really, but considering neither one of them has any engineering experience, they think it looks good for their skill level.

"Once you bring the those sandbags and we put them in the counterweight we can take it out in the field behind the Ag parking lot and test it out," Gale tinkers with the arm, raising it up and down, making the weighted end swing gently. "I read those papers you gave me yesterday, and we'll need to fire it off a few times to test the accuracy and the distance."

Madge is fairly confident it'll work. She and Gale had watched dozens of videos of people shooting off trebuchets, to study them, and see how different ones looked. They watched almost too many a couple of times. Madge had been late to English twice, and despite saying that she was learning about the defenses of Minas Tirith, Ms. Trinket didn't care. Which was completely unfair. Madge was combining her classes, crossing her studies, real history and the history of Middle Earth…

"She was a fruit cake last year too," Gale says almost consolingly.

During their lunch sessions Madge lets herself appreciate just how very good looking Gale is. He likes to take off his shirt, despite that it's not even remotely warm, while he works on their project. Chesney would probably drop dead at the sight, and Madge can't say she blames her.

Pressley, who'd ended up with Delly during her hour, a combination that's painful to even hearabout, just sighs everytime Madge mentions her lunchtime activities during fourth hour.

"How did you get so lucky."

While Madge wouldn't exactly call it lucky, getting stuck with Gale Hawthorne is certainly less of a disaster than she thought it would be. Once they got past his lack of organization or as he called it, Madge's obsessive scheduling, things went surprisingly smoothly. They hadn't even argued since the first day.

As their time winds down, Madge finds herself actually dreading the end of the project.

#######

Despite himself, Gale enjoys his lunches with Madge.

He'd groaned out loud, hadn't wanted to spend two weeks' worth of lunches with her, but they'd ended up being…not terrible.

In fact, he was going to miss them when it was over.

The Wednesday before the project is due they very carefully load their weapon, which is unsurprisingly heavy, into the back of Gale's truck, unload it, and set it up in the field.

"Do you get the feeling it's just going to shatter the first time we set it off?" She asks, her lip puckering out slightly, a little enticingly.

She's grown on him, these past two weeks. He'd thought she was a little stuck up, but having to hang out with her during lunch had opened her up. Now he would probably call her a little shy, but with a sharp side to her outwardly sweet nature.

"Ms. Trinket made the grave mistake of making the word 'ossify' her 'Word of the Day' for today," she'd snorted one day before heading to class. "Any bets on whether she picks up on any of the double entendres I've stealthily hidden in my daily prompt?"

Madge Undersee napped during her first hour, which she thought was a waste of time, and had no problem doing her homework from the night before while Coach was 'teaching', but she also loved learning, gaining new knowledge. Madge is almost painfully sweet, she took the time to help a desperate Chesney Shumard, one of the most obnoxious girls Gale has ever met, plot out what she and Sal Sanderson, one of the dimmest boys Gale has ever met, were going to do for their project.

"They got 'hellburners'," she told him the day he'd caught her helping a tearful Chesney during what was supposed to be her English hour. Ms. Trinket had apparently not known what to do with the visibly upset freshman and had let Madge take her to an empty class to calm her down.

"After I looked it up, helped her make an outline, helped her come up with a project, she was better."

"You did all that in an hour?" Gale'd asked her. It shouldn't have surprised him, Madge had a knack for not wasting time.

"I don't like having work hanging over my head. It makes me anxious. Plus, history is fun. I learned all about fire ships with Chesney."

That was another thing he'd learned about Madge, she's an enormous nerd. Not only does she make movie and book reference, but she also has the most bizarre bits of knowledge, more than he'd even expected, locked away in her pretty head. He's almost certain spending lunch with her has taught him more history and literary references than he'd absorbed during his entire freshman year.

She bites her lip and he realizes she's still waiting for an answer.

"Naw," he says quickly, crouching on the dry grass to ready the projectile, a heavily burnt round loaf Madge had supplied.

When he gets the release set he grabs Madge and pulls her with him to a safe distance. He's fairlyconfident nothing will go wrong, but as Madge had said only days before, the guys that made the Titanic were probably confident nothing could go wrong either.

Thus their desire to test it.

Giving the cord a tug, it releases.

A little less gracefully than the videos they'd watched, the bread is flung, arches high into the air, across the sky, landing somewhere out in the trees.

Gale is so thrilled with the success that he almost doesn't notice the pair of cool hands gripping his forearm.

Madge's eyes are squinted shut, her nose is scrunched up, her expression almost pained, as her soft, perfectly filed fingertips squeeze his arm.

"Did you not watch?"

She shakes her head, "No." One of her eyes peaks open, "Did it break?"

Gale can't help it, he starts laughing. She'd put so much effort into planning, gathering, helping build the stupid thing, and she hadn't even watched it's maiden launch.

Both her eye fly open, terrified at what she's going to find.

"It's…all in one piece." Her mouth creeps up into a bright smile, "It didn't break!"

Even though she dresses a little more expensively than the other girls at the school, isn't quite what he's use to, watching her bounce up and down on the balls of her feet and do a funny little dance at the success of their project, he wonders if maybe he doesn't like what she is more than what he's had anyway. She isn't pretty like the girls he's dated before, she's smart and funny and actually able to carry on a conversation, and that makes her beautiful. Which makes having to go back to the way things were that much harder.

#######

Coach Cray loves the trebuchet.

"If I could give you higher than 100% I would."

A silly as the retaliatory report had been, as childish as Madge felt the assigning people to each other seemingly out of spite was, she hadn't been as miserable as she'd expected. Gale had been…pleasant, though she knows that will be coming to as abrupt an end as it had started.

Which is a little disappointing, he could be so much more than just a football player, even though he seems to be convinced that particular path is the only one available to him.

Once the reports and projects are presented, Madge and Gale get to fling an untold number of things into the horizon, simply for Coach Cray's amusement, to be lost in the tree line beyond the field behind the school, things go back to normal.

Madge gets her first hour nap or homework rush-a-thon back, lunch with Peeta, breakfast, and beauty school with Chesney back. Gale gets to go back to rough housing with his friends and his date night recaps, though Madge notices they aren't quite as frequent, not quite as loud as they had been.

Part of her is grateful for that. For some reason the thought of hearing about his exploits turns her stomach.

After a few weeks things settle back to normal, and one too bright, too early morning, as she's drifting into a doze, Madge wonders if maybe Delly will complain again and get another report assigned.

Hopefully Coach Cray lets them keep their partners.


	8. Wanna hold your hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Late March, Sophomore Year

Gale is pretty sure he's found the entrance to hell, and it's in the mall.

Honestly, how do people shop under these conditions?

The store is too dark, smells like someone dumped gallons of perfume somewhere deep in the bowels of the store, and he's fairly certain at least one of his eardrums has busted. He's read about this kind of psychological torture being carried out during times of war, but a sidewalk sale isn't a combat zone, despite how some of these people are treating it.

He glances at Katniss, "Wish me luck."

"God, Gale, just get in and out," she tells him. She looks a little peaky, a deer caught in the headlights. Shopping is way outside her comfort zone and he appreciated her coming, but so far she's been no help whatsoever.

He could've asked his mother to come, but she would've told his dad and he'd tell Rory and Vick and, god help him, he just can't handle the teasing right now.

He'd done his research, swallowed his pride and asked Peeta 'Golden God of the Wrestling Mat' Mellark what he could do to improve his chances with Madge.

"You could start by getting some actual cologne," he'd told him, not even bothering with hiding his smirk.

"What's wrong with my body spray?" It had served him well since junior high, why change a tried and true staple?

Mellark's eyebrows rose, "You asked for help, that's my advice. That body spay of yours is like kryptonite. By which I mean it'll kill you chances." He eyes Gale up and down, "She won't care much, but try to make yourself look, you know, special. Like you give a shit for once."

Thus Gale's current predicament.

Feeling a bit like he's about to drive into piranha infested water, Gale takes a deep breath and walks in.

He almost turns and walks back out when he sees the price on one of the button up shirts. Someone had put that decimal point in the wrong place, there's no way anyone would pay that much for a flimsy, wrinkled button up shirt.

Moving around the edges, he's able to avoid the bubbly girl hanging out by the ragged looking jean short display. She gets caught by a woman and her daughter and doesn't look happy about it.

He just has to get to the cologne, which Mellark had assured him was Madge's favorite, and get out.

It's in his sight, only a few strides away, when a guy, Gale's age or a little younger, practically jumps in front of him. He's wearing one of the flimsy shirts, a pair of artfully tattered jeans, has too much gel in his hair and a smirk on his lips that just screams 'I'm the biggest prick for at least a ten mile radius'.

"Can I help you find something?"

No, but you can find someone else to annoy.

Gale forces a smile, "Nope, just picking up some, uh-"

He reaches around the obnoxious guy, his name tag reads 'Cato', a douchbag name if Gale ever heard one, picks up one of the bottles. He gives it a little glare, "-cologne."

Cato's smirk widens, "Nice choice." His eyes flicker up then down Gale's frame, taking in his less than fashionable jeans and his clearly well worn shirt. "If you're looking to impress someone, though, you might want to think about upgrading your look too."

Who exactly did this asshole think he was? What makes him think Gale is trying to-

Damn.

Gritting his teeth, he isn't about to let Cato the asshole know he's hit anywhere near the mark, Gale grinds out another smile. "Not everyone needs expensive crap to get a girl."

Cato snorts, "You'd better hope not."

If Gale weren't certain there were cameras watching every inch of this stupid store he'd have decked him.

Before he knows what he's doing, before he can get a hold of his pride, he's swiping up a some stupidly expensive grey button up, thrusting it at the positively wickedly grinning Cato. "I'll take this."

It's as Cato, smirking to himself on a sale well executed, is ringing him up that Gale realizes what a dumb move he's just made.

An entire paycheck, two weeks with of work, down the drain just to prove he had money, that he really didn't, to some prick working in an over priced store at the mall.

Gale doesn't even bother with a faked smile when Cate hands him the bag with his poor life choices in it, tells him with a smirk to "Have a nice day!"

#######

"I can't believe you paid this much for a shirt," Katniss stares at the receipt. "It makes me feel a little nauseated, actually."

She does look kind of green.

Gale feels sick himself.

He shouldn't have let that jerk goad him into buying something. It burns him, though, when people imply he doesn't have the means, especially when it's people who clearly do have the means doing the implying.

Shooting the gray shirt a dark look, he starts up his truck. It's getting late and he still needs to get Katniss home

#######

Gale gets up early the next morning. He needs the extra time to shave, something he absolutely hates to do. Normally his stubble goes on for two or three days before his mother gives him the look and he has to drag himself to the sink for a round of torture.

Mellark had said to show a little effort though, and if shaving isn't making it apparent that he means business then he doesn't know what will.

He rubs a dab of the cologne on, not so much that it makes him want to gag but enough that surely Madge will notice, then tries to fight his hair into a more presentable state. It takes ten minutes and more hair gel than he's comfortable admitting he even has in his possession, but he finally gets his normally bed headed hair combed down.

When he emerges from the bathroom in his nicest pair of Levi's and his horribly over priced shirt, he nearly trips over a yawning Rory.

"Watch it," Rory mutters before vanishing to begin his morning routine.

He reappears seconds later, back into their bedroom, toothpaste dribbling down his front as he stares at Gale.

"Why you thow dwessed up?"

Vick pops up, squints into the dim light from the hall, over to Gale. He sniffs the air, frowns, "You smell like a girl."

If he didn't have to drive them to school he'd leave right this minute, wait for the first bell in the field house. This day is too fragile to put up with their harassment.

Before they can get their brain working, begin asking him questions he can't drown out with his radio, he leaves, heads for the kitchen.

Big mistake.

His mother has several boxes of Posy's Girl Scout cookies stacked by the door, is staring at them with a little frown creasing her forehead. She looks up at Gale, gives him a faint smile, then turns back to the boxes. His appearance seems to register with her after a second or two and her head snaps to him.

"You look…very nice this morning, Gale."

He grunts in response, grabs the coffee pot and pours himself some in a travel mug.

"It's not picture day is it?"

Gale shakes his head as he takes a sip, burns his tongue, "Damn!"

His mother shoots him a look, plainly telling him to watch his language before she throws out her next question, "Where did you get this shirt?" She eyes it carefully, "It's very nice."

It better be for what I paid. He thinks irritably.

She narrows her eyes, "You shaved." Her nose wrinkles, eyebrows rise, "You're wearing cologne." A knowing grin forms on her lips, "Honey, do you have a date for lunch or something."

"No," he says, a tad too quickly. It isn't a lie, he doesn't know if Madge'll say yes, to anything, yet.

It's instantly apparent she knows he isn't being entirely truthful, even though he is.

"What's her name?"

When he doesn't answer, just starts digging through the cabinet for the bread, she laughs.

"Fine, don't tell me. I'll have your brothers-"

He nearly knocks his coffee over he spins so quickly around.

Not them.

"Look, she's just a girl."

"Gale," she gives him a pained smile, "you don't get dolled up for just some girl."

I am not dolled up.

It takes some effort not to cross his arms and huff.

After a minute long staring match, Gale finally lets his eyes flicker to the ground. "Her name's Madge."

Her mouth turns down, he can see a glimmer of recognition flare somewhere in the back of her mind, but she just can't place it.

"I did that history project with her. The, uh, catapult, trebuchet, thing…"

In less than a fraction of a second his mother's face lights up. She beams at him, "Ithought you liked her. I didn't know the two of you still talked."

They did, but only when he wasn't making a complete and utter ass of himself. Even then it was mostly just idle chatter. Weather. Passing information about Katniss. Boring stuff. He isn't even sure he knows what they'll talk about if she agrees to lunch. His dates don't usually involve much taking, as a general rule.

Maybe I should rethink this…

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Checking it, he finds a texts from Katniss.

Stomach inside out. No school. Good luck.

Great. He'd been planning on using Katniss to talk him up to Madge during lab. Not that it was a fantastic plan, Katniss was about as likely to make him sound repulsive as desirable…maybe this is a blessing in disguise.

Plan B it is.

He'll have to use his favor. The one he'd earned fixing her car. It feels like a trick, and it is really. How else is he going to get her to give him her undivided attention though?

There's a crash, coming from the direction of his bedroom, Rory and Vick have apparently started their twice weekly morning fight. It always makes him late. Why did hey have to pick today to do this?

His mother sighs, closes her eyes, then her lips tug up at the corners.

"Posy isn't feeling well so do you think you can take these cookies up to the school for her?"

Is she nuts?

"There won't be enough room in the truck for the idiots if I have those coo-"

Oh. Oh.

His mother gives him an overly dramatic sigh. "Your brothers will just have to ride the bus."

That poor bus driver.

Gale eyes the boxes, starts mentally stacking them in his mind. If he puts them all in the passenger seat Madge will have to sit beside him…

His mother is a devious one.

"Sucks to be them," Gale snorts, as he heaves one of the boxes up.

#######

When he's finished shoving the last box into the passenger side of his truck, slammed the door, his mother comes up behind him.

"You look so handsome," she smoothes some invisible creases out of his shirt, straightens his collar. One of her work worn finger reaches up, taps his nose, "Stop looking so grim, smile. You smile and I guarantee you she'll be out here for dinner in no time."

Gal rolls his eyes, "Yeah."

Madge isn't going to be coming to their house until he's got the idiots that share his room good and terrified of saying anything rude while she's around.

First things first, though. He has to actually ask her out.

He glances at his mother.

"Wish me luck."


	9. A little help from my friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

November, Freshman Year

Gale nearly gets beaned in the head with the football. He's just a tad too preoccupied to notice Thom has thrown it to him.

It isn't his fault though. How can they expect him to pay attention to a stupid ball when the girls from the cross country team are trickling by?

It had escaped his attention before, and he hadn't cared much, but their running path, which consisted mostly of the roads around the school, passed the fence that ran along the edge of the football practice field. It's a tantalizing view.

Or at least it is for a short window.

Madge seemed to stay in the middle of the pack. Gale had figured out that she normally trailed the leader, one of the senior girls, by a few minutes. He'd spent the past few weeks, in the wake of their history project, trying to time his water breaks accordingly, give himself another chance to see her during the day.

Watching her run by in those little shorts and mesh top was quickly becoming the highlight of his day, even if it made him a bit of a pervert for doing so.

She'd sped up today, though, and it had almost caused Gale serious bodily injury.

"What're you doing?" Thom yells as he chases down the ball, which has landed in a muddy puddle. He shoots Gale a filthy look, glares at the huffy look Gale shoots back at him, until he realizes what had so distracted his friend.

"Oh god, it's your girlfriend isn't it?" He almost trips over his feet as he jogs to Gale's side.

"She isn't my girlfriend," Gale tells him, a little shortly. She isn't his anything, not even his friend.

"Fine, 'oh god, it's the girl you're stalking, isn't it?'"

Gale snatches the ball from Thom and throws it off. Maybe he'll chase it.

"I'm not stalking her."

Thom smirks, "Oh? Really? What do you call it then? Bird watching?"

"What are you talking about?" Stalking is what creeps do, and Gale is ninety-five percent sure he isn't a creep.

"You think I haven't noticed you just 'happen' to take your water breaks at the same time your little blonde bombshell goes past everyday? And that supposed short-cut you found to the Ag barn? Don't think it escaped my attention that it also takes you past her fourth hour."

He arches his eyebrows, "You've changed the path you take to class just so you can get a glimpse of her, you plan breaks around watching her in short-shorts, and you almost got a concussion because you were enjoying the view." Thom jabs him in the shoulder, "You, my friend, are a stalker."

Am not.

"You think you're a whole lot smarter than you really are, you know that Thom-ass?" Gale tells his jerk of a friend as Madge and her running shorts are about to vanish over a low hill.

Thom pops into view, cutting off Gale's last fleeting look.

"Oh, please, you might as well tattoo it on your forehead: Jonesing for a piece of Madge Undersee."

While he's not entirely convinced that he's been that obvious about liking her, he might've been a little less than stealthy in his attempts to catch whatever glimpses of her he could get. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but as Thom spends a lot of time with him, Gale supposes it was inevitable that he'd pick up on his little crush.

"Fine," Gale grunts. "I like her. A little."

And that's all he'll admit to. Not that he wants to ask her out. Not that he misses talking to her. Just that he likes her.

"Right," Thom rolls his eyes. "A little."

"She's nice to look at," Gale defends himself. It's true. Thom won't argue with that.

"So is Chenille Shumard and you don't go out of your way to watch her play volleyball," Thom says as he wipes some of the mud from the ball across the front of his jersey, smearing the number with a swatch of brown. "Admit it Gale, you had to spend time with a girl without making out with her and now you've, what's it called, 'connected on a deeper level'."

Thom spends too much time watching afternoon talk show psychologists. Gale needs to find an after school program for him to enroll in or something.

"I'll 'connect' something with you on a 'deeper level'," Gale mutters.

"Sorry, man, I have a girlfriend." Thom smirks, "And you obviously like blondes now."

It takes a great deal of self-control for Gale not to overturn the water jug on Thom's head.

#######

Despite wanting to throttle him, Gale still gives Thom a ride after school. He really shouldn't have though.

"Maybe we should see if Undersee needs a ride," Thom offers the second he has his seatbelt fastened. He's lucky. If he hadn't Gale's pretty sure he would've pushed him out the passenger side door.

Katniss gives him a confused look, "Madge walks home." Her eyebrows scrunch together, "Plus there isn't room."

For a second it looks like the subject will be dropped, Gale puts the truck in drive and they all jerk in the cab, then Thom shoots Katniss a smirk.

"I bet we could scrunch together real tight." He looks past her, to Gale who is gripping the steering wheel so tightly he's pretty sure his fingers are going to go numb. "Couldn't we Gale?"

Still not catching on to what Thom is so blatantly trying to point out, Katniss frowns, "But why would we? She doesn't live that far, and she runs cross-country, she's a good runner."

Leaning forward, wagging his eyebrows, Thom grins, "Yeah, Gale knows she's a good runner. Dontcha Gale?"

If it weren't for a quite clearly confused Katniss being seated between them, like a human shield, Gale would pummel his idiot friend. He wonders why Gale doesn't tell him things.

"I don't get it," Katniss glares at Thom. "What don't I know?"

"A great many things," Thom waves his hand. "But specifically, that Gale has a thing for Madge Undersee."

For a second she just stares at Thom, Gale can see her trying to piece together things in her head, the social sphere has never exactly been Katniss' area of expertise.

Finally, she nods, "Okay." She turns in the seat, crosses her arms over her chest, narrows her eyes fractionally, "You aren't planning on asking her out, are you?"

Annoyance flares up in him and he cuts her a look, "No."

Not that it's any of her business.

Holding his glare for a few seconds, Katniss finally nods, "Good."

"Why 'good'?" He can do whatever he wants. Maybe he will ask her out.

"Because," Katniss crosses her arms a little tighter around her chest, "she's my friend too."

Gale instantly deflates, his shoulders droop.

It shouldn't shock him that she's a bit hostile to his interest in Madge. Gale hasn't exactly got a sterling track record with girls and Katniss hasn't exactly got that many friends. The thought of one of her small circle taking another for a ride wouldn't set well with her.

For the rest of the ride Thom keeps his fat mouth shut, though he does smirk obnoxiously at Gale when he lets him out of the truck. In retaliation, Gale guns the truck, makes the passenger side door flop, and hits him behind the back of the knees before he has a chance to close it. "Hey!"

When they make it to Katniss' house, just a few roads up from Gale's, she sighs.

She turns in the seat, keeps her eyes down and shifted away from Gale. "Gale…Madge is my friend, or at least more of a friend than most of the other girls. She's nice and…" She makes a pained face, "and you can be nice, but not always."

A frustrated little noise comes from somewhere in her chest. Clearly she doesn't like her own explanation.

"You aren't the best with girls, you know? I just…don't want anyone to get hurt."

It's perfectly obvious she thinks Gale would be the one doing the hurting, but he understands. She's watching out for one of the few people she genuinely likes at their stupid school, and Gale gets the impression Madge might need someone looking out for her. She gave up her lunch during their project way too willingly, which is downright appalling to Gale. No one with a normal social life drops the only worthwhile hour of the school day just to do a project.

It's no wonder Katniss likes her.

"I know," Gale finally grunts, scowling at the fuel gauge. He's almost on empty.

Seeming to sense his frustration, though probably unsure if it's with himself or her, Katniss shifts in her seat, fiddles with her backpack.

"Look, just, I don't know," she squints out the front windshield, "grow up a little."

Gale isn't sure what noise comes out of him at that statement.

"Did you just tell me to grow up?"

Rolling her eyes, Katniss makes a huffing noise, "Yeah, I think I did." She scowls at him, "Just because we're in high school doesn't mean you have to act like some jock jerk. Girls aren't around just to be conquests for you."

He almost tells her to back off, that she's out of line, but then he remembers Madge mentioning him talking about taking girls up to the Slag Heap. Heat rises up his face. Madge probably thinks along the same lines as Katniss, even though he's been less active in his dating and has tried, with varying success, to lower his voice when the guys ask him about his exploits.

An unpleasant feeling, a lurching roll, hits his stomach. He's dug this hole, treating girls less than gentlemanly, and even his best friend knows it.

He doesn't want to treat Madge like a conquest. He wants to treat her like a real girlfriend, and for her to like him and talk to him, like she had during their project. Treat him like something more than a good-looking date on a Friday night. If he wants that though, he's going to have to prove that he's not the same 'jock jerk' he's been the past couple of years.

Gale lets out a long sigh. His reputation will need a major revamp before he can even think about asking Madge out. Katniss will definitely require it.

The passenger door opens; Gale glances over and sees Katniss sliding out. She turns, adjusts her backpack on her shoulders with a look of deep concentration.

"I-Gale you aren't a bad guy, but you make bad decisions with girls. If you just-I don't know-stop doing what you've been doing, treat her like you treat me maybe, show her the Gale I know, then I think Madge will really like you."

"Okay," he nods, more to himself than her. "I'll work on it."

A small smile, just a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth, flicker across her features and Gale feels the rolling in his stomach slow.

Katniss still thinks he has a chance, despite his reputation. It'll take more than a little effort, but it gives him hope.

The door slams, rattles the window, and Gale settles back in his seat.

At the beginning of the day he'd been admiring Madge from afar, or as Thom called it, stalking, but now he knows what he wants.

It's going to take a lot of work, unlearning all his own bad habits, but if Katniss thinks Madge would give him a chance then what reason is there not to at least try?

A smile, much brighter than the one Katniss had given him, creeps up Gale's face. He's going to get his act together, grow up a little, show Madge the Gale that Katniss knows and thinks she'll like.

In the mean time, he's still taking his water breaks when she jogs by. Maybe he's only ninety percent sure he isn't a creep.


	10. Love me tender, extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
> 
> AN: So this is basically a few deleted scene from the beginning of 'Love Me Tender' (the prom chapter). They messed up the flow and tone so I cut them out. I re-read them and worked on them some more, so now they're silly, but they aren't messing up the chapter's tone so that's okay.

April, Sophomore Year

"Slim pickins," Peeta frowns as he pushes another few dresses out of the way.

He'd driven Madge to the mall the last two weekends to try and help her find something suitable for prom. It was such short notice, though, that almost all of the dresses that were left were either the wrong size or completely hideous.

She was beginning to get discouraged.

"I'm never going to find a dress." She may as well tell Gale she can't go.

"Uh-uh, never say never," Peeta holds up a particularly frilly pink dress. "On second thought…"

Madge groans and collapses onto the little bench outside the dressing room. Not only did she need to get a dress, she had to find someone to do her hair, her makeup, oh god, she needed shoes…

"I'm doomed."

"It's just prom," Peeta plops down beside her. "You'll find a dress, and shoes, and somehow I doubt Gale is going to care if you wear makeup or if you have bed hair."

She wrinkles her nose, "Of course he'd care."

"Nope, don't think so."

She hates it when he acts like he knows something she doesn't. He gets this stupid grin and raises his eyebrows, does a ridiculous dance. It's very annoying.

Madge pushes him with her shoulder, "What do you know?"

He snorts, "He's been making puppy eyes at you for the past year. Everytime something happened and he looked like an ass around you, he looked like someone just punched him in the kidney." Peeta pushes her back, "Guy looks at a girl like that, even when she's disgusting and sweaty, he isn't going to care much about how she looks at prom too much."

Madge feels her face heating up, she's probably as pink as the last dress Peeta had shown her.

She finally looks up at him, mouth twitching to hold back her smile, "You really think so?"

Peeta wraps his arm around her shoulder, "I know so, dork." He sighs, "Why don't we head over to the resell shop? No one's going have looked there and, you never know, some rich girl mighta tossed out something that Cosmo hasn't deemed unwearable this season."

"You read Cosmo?" Why did he read Cosmo?

His cheeks tinge pink, "I took Emmer to the minor emergency a couple of weeks ago when he had that stomach bug. I like to take the quizzes when I'm in waiting rooms."

Madge can't keep the snort from slipping out. "Yeah, sure."

#######

Putting her phone in her back pocket, Gale keeps texting her and it's making her nervous, Madge holds up the final dress. Her last hope.

It's lavender, strapless, a bit itchy, but otherwise as good as she's going to find on such short notice.

"Now I need a strapless bra."

Peeta shoots her a look, his eyebrows rise and his mouth turns down deeply, "A what-less what?"

"Strapless bra." Surely Cosmo had mentioned them.

He shakes his head, "I thought those were a myth. Like unicorns or crotchless panties."

Madge is pretty sure crotchless panties are real, but she has absolutely no desire to discuss women's underwear with Peeta. He'll just have to remain ignorant of all the possibilities that may hide under the clothing of all the girls around him until he can find more informative magazines.

When they get to the women's underwear section Madge tries to send him away.

"I can manage from here. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Peeta looks at her like she's grown a second head.

"Uncomfortable? I'm a teenage boy with a legitimate reason to be in the ladies underwear section, I'm so happy right now I could cry."

So as Madge looks through the handful of strapless bras Peeta explores the wide and unknown world of the lingerie section.

He comes back twenty minutes later wearing a red infinity scarf and a pair of cheap looking sunglasses.

"Look, Madge, I'm New York's coolest quadruped!"

She looks him up and down, "Technically, you're a biped."

He gives her a glare over the tops of the glasses, "You're a fun sucker, you know that?"

Her eye flicker up, "Got bored with panties, did you?"

Peeta pushes the sunglasses up into his hair. "It's not as exciting as I'd imagined." He glances around, "Maybe they lose some of their magical properties if there isn't a girl in them."

"Maybe." A little smirk twitches her mouth up, "Though in your case it would only be magic if it were a specific girl, right?"

It's a little annoying how he doesn't even blush at her ribbing.

"What can I say? I'm a man with fine taste." He grins over at her, snatches the bra from her hands. "So this is a strapless bra, huh? Not as amazing as it sounds."

"Give that back," Madge makes to grab it from him.

He dodges her hand, twirls away. "You want it? Come and get it!"

Peeta does a half run, humming the ending to 'Why should I worry', glancing back at Madge as he does so, completely missing the rack of clothes being pushed by one of the women working at the store down the aisle. He plows into it, tangling in the dresses before falling through to the other side.

We're going to be banned from the mall.

Madge walks around the rack, quickly holds her hand out. Peeta makes a wounded noise, but hands her the bra back.

"I'm going to check out." Before they get security to kick them out and she has to go through the painful process of trying on another round of the awful things at a different store.

"So much for 'street savoir-faire'," Peeta mutters as he tries to untwist one of the sundresses from his legs.

#######

"Gale, honey?"

Gale grunts to his mother from under his truck. It has a rattle and he's isolated the source. He wants it fixed before prom.

"Do you know what color Madge's dress is going to be?"

He didn't. Was he supposed to coordinate or something? No one had told him that.

"No…why?"

His mother sighs, he can almost see her covering her eyes, "So I can get her a corsage."

With one last flick of his wrench, Gale slides himself out from under the truck and sits up on his roller. He points his hand up to the shop table strewn with greasy tools, "Hand me my phone and I'll ask her."

Carefully, his mother reaches into the nest of rags he's hidden his phone in and retrieves it. She tosses it to him with a grimace.

A little smile creeps onto his face as he finds her name, recently his most frequent contact, at the top of his texts. He hadn't thought she would say yes, it was nothing short of a miracle in his mind. Now he texts her everyday, has lunch with her, they're going to a dance that, even though he thinks it's a little stupid, she seems excited about.

After a few minutes she responds. 'Haven't got one yet'.

"She's still looking."

His mother chuckles, "Alright, she's blonde too, right?"

Gale nods.

"Do you have any preference for the flowers?"

He doesn't. He thinks pinning a silly little bouquet of flowers on Madge is a little…stupid. "Not really."

"Have you got your tux rented?"

He's beginning to think she's playing a game of twenty questions. "Yes, mom."

She gives him a little smile, "I'm just trying to keep you on task." Her smile slips a little, "Would you be okay with your father and I coming over to her house? So we can get pictures too?"

Gale groans internally. He's going to be nervous enough without an audience, and he doubts Madge will want their first official outing to be documented as in depth as his mother is likely to try and make it.

Reluctantly, he sends Madge another text.

It takes her less time to respond this time, it's nearly dinner, so maybe she's eating and waiting for his next message. He should just call her. It's Saturday so he hasn't heard her voice since Friday night…

'That's cool. Or I can come to your house. My parents won't be home.'

He frowns. She said her parents weren't home last week either.

Gale flickers his eyes up to his mother before quickly responding.

'No, I want to pick you up.' He sighs. 'Guess you get to meet my parents.'

They'll love her, he already knows that. She's pretty and smart and she dresses better than any of the other girls he's dated, that alone will make his mother happy. She'd called the last 'girlfriend' of his, a leggy brunette they'd run into at the bait and tackle store, a 'bottom feeding floozy'. Still, Madge is a bit reserved, part of the reason he'd had such a hard time asking her out, he's afraid her quietness might put his mother off at least. His dad, who'd met her, already had an affinity for her, had harassed Gale about why he didn't ask the 'pretty blonde car girl' out after he fixed her starter.

"Because she hates me," Gale had told him.

The day Gale had come home and told him he was going to prom with her, his dad had given him the most annoyingly knowing smirk.

His phone vibrates again.

'Great!' A second text comes a few seconds later. 'I'm not being sarcastic either.'

Gale snorts.

"Madge said that's fine."

His mother smiles down at him before turning to leave. "Hurry up, dear. Dinners waiting."

#######

"When is your girlfriend coming to dinner?" Posy asks for the millionth time as she pushes her peas around on her plate. A few fall off the sides.

Never. Gale still needs to prepare Madge for the madness that usually ensues when Rory and Vick get going. She's an only child, all the fighting that goes down between his brothers might be a bit of a shock to her system.

Plus, they were both getting a bit girl-crazy. Rory had already gotten in trouble with some of his friends for making crude jokes and Vick had started staring at cleavage. It might be a while before Gale has Madge ready to deal with two adolescent boys.

"Later," Gale finally tells her, more than a little vaguely.

His father chuckles, "Much later?"

Decades.

"Well, your father and I get to meet her before they go to dinner," his mother tells them as she picks up a few of Posy's stray peas and puts them back on her plate.

Gale grunts in acknowledgement as his father's eyebrow arch up.

"Oh?" He looks genuinely confused, "You really want us there?"

Not really. "Sure. Whatever."

Unlike his mother, Gale's father seems to realize Gale isn't exactly thrilled with his parents tagging along for a photo op. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

The smile that had been on Gale's mother's face slips off, "Why not?"

Gale keeps his head down. Much as he wants his dad to win this sudden discussion, he isn't about to get involved. He can feel his siblings' wide eyes taking in every detail though.

"Do you really think that's the best way to meet the poor girl? When she's nervous and uncomfortable?" One of his hands goes to his neck and starts rubbing at the muscle, "Don't you remember prom? It's enough of a nightmare without parents being there, which yours were." He raises his eyebrows as he looks at her, "I recall that quite vividly."

A small grimace flickers on Gale's mother's face. She thinks for a moment before nodding, "You're probably right." Her gaze flickers to Gale, "It just isn't fair her mom and dad will get to see the both of you looking so nice and I won't."

Instilling maximum amounts of guilt in children must be a course they teach all mothers, and Gale's pretty sure his mother must've been at the top of her class.

He glares at his plate. Meeting her gaze isn't an option, he's too close to not having her 'oohing and awwing' over he and Madge to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

"Madge's parents won't be there either." He spears a carrot, "They're out of town."

Indefinitely, apparently.

His parents exchange a look, a bit concerned, but don't say anything.

"See, Hazelle? You won't be left out."

Gale lets his eyes flicker to his dad.

He's smiling at his wife, willing her to see reason. While Gale is fairly certain it's a hopeless cause, he got his own stubborn streak from her, he can still hope. If anyone can change his mother's mind, it's his dad. It's his super power. He gives her a dopey grin and she's at least fifty percent more likely to listen.

After several tense seconds, his mother sighs, "Fine. We won't go." She shoots Gale a sad look, clearly still sending out guilt-vibes, "But you have to promise me you'll take pictures."

Hard as he tries, Gale can't keep the tiny smile from creeping onto his face as he nods.

#######

"You owe me big, mister."

Gale nods at his dad. He'd just saved him from an awkward meeting.

He could already imagine his snap happy mother, filling up the memory card on the camera they'd gotten her for Christmas with pictures of he and Madge looking sweaty and uncomfortable in the stupid prom get ups.

"So," his father begins, picking up various tools, rearranging them on the work bench. "When do you plan on letting your poor mother meet the elusive Miss Undersee?"

Gale checks the dipstick in his oil for the tenth time as he considers the question. He finally decides on, "When we figure out how to keep Rory from speaking."

"That far off then?"

A garbled laugh comes out Gale's chest. "I guess we can lock him and Vick in a closet or something."

His dad chuckles, "We aren't that bad."

It gets quiet for a minute before Gale sighs.

"It isn't that I don't want her to meet everyone. It's just that," he frowns down at the engine of his truck, "she's kind of quiet and, let's face it, no one in this family is. We might overwhelm her."

He's spent too much time building up to this point, he doesn't want his rowdy brothers or nosy mother to scare her off.

With a tilt of his head, Gale's dad smiles, "I didn't get the impression she was easy to throw."

Oh god. Gale has imagined what dorky as hell things his dad had said to Madge back in the fall when he'd brought them the starter for her car. Probably talked her ear off, and, god help him, told her one of his completely unfunny, corny jokes.

That's the final straw, Madge is never getting to meet any member of his family.


	11. Close enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

June between Sophomore and Junior Year

Gale taps his foot, a nervous habit even though he isn't anywhere near anxious. Mostly, he's just bored.

Madge is in the dressing room, trying on what feels like the millionth pair of shorts. She keeps finding something wrong with each pair she puts on. One was too short (Gale thought they were perfect), one had too many designs on the pockets, and at least three had made her butt look 'wonky'. Needless to say it's shaping up to be a long afternoon.

She had told him he didn't have to come.

"Peeta said he would drive me," she told him when he asked what time he needed to pick her up.

"Peeta isn't your boyfriend," he'd grumbled. "I am. I can take you to the mall."

Her cool little hand had grasped his. "Gale, you hate the mall. Peeta doesn't. It's fine if you don't want to go."

He'd shaken his head and insisted it was fine. Between football camp and practice plus the part-time job he'd picked up at the District doing sub-menial tasks Gale's time with her has been at a minimal. If he has to go to the mall to spend a few extra hours with her then so be it.

Though now that he's out there, trapped on a bench while she tries on her million and first pair of short, he's beginning to think maybe he should've let Mellark come with her.

Just as he's about to drift to sleep, Madge had taken him to the food court and bought him the most disgustingly stuffed and deep fried something on a stick, which he'd quickly devoured, and now his overly full belly is urging him to take a quick nap while Madge frets over her next pair of shorts, someone bumps into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," the girl tells him, flashing him a false smile.

Gale nods an acknowledgement.

"Can I help you with anything?" She offers, though it should be perfectly clear Gale isn't in the store for himself. He's in a well worn pair of jeans, definitely not from the men's section of this perfumed hell-hole, and a nice, but obviously cheap, t-shirt.

Gale glances down at himself then back at her, gives her a pleasant enough forced smile. "I'm just waiting."

Her lips, a little too shiny with that disgusting goopy lip gloss one of his ex-girlfriends used to wear, pull up into a flirtatious grin. "Well, if you change your mind. Just let me know." She points to her badge, pushes her chest out just slightly. "My name's Glimmer."

'Glimmer' sounds like a stripper name to Gale, but telling her that would probably get him and Madge tossed out of the store, so despite how tempting that sounded, he keeps the thought to himself.

He nods, tries not to roll his eyes, and he must succeed, because she gives him a little wink and walks away, making sure to jiggle just enough that it should've been enticing, but only felt a little desperate to Gale.

The dressing room door behind him clicks shut and he turns to find Madge standing with her arms full of unwanted shorts, her whole demeanor drooping.

"None of them, huh?"

She doesn't say anything, just nods and puts the pile on a cart labeled 'reshelf' before crossing her arms over her stomach and brushing past him.

It's a bit silly, he thinks, to get so sad about not finding a new pair of shorts. Though if he'd just spend an hour trying pants on and didn't walk away with any of them he might feel a little down too.

He does a little jog to catch up with her, she's got short legs but when she's in a hurry they move at an alarming rate, and by the time he's out of the store she's half-way down the row of stores.

"Where to next?" He asks when he finally catches up with her.

"I just want to go home," she tells him softly.

While he's happy to leave the mall, he's pretty sure he's allergic to something in the air because he's all itchy and he thinks he might have some hives on his back, he gets the impression Madge isn't wanting to leave simply because she's finally realized they are at the mouth of hell.

He catches her by the elbow and gives her a tug toward a set of benches near the exit.

"What's wrong?"

She doesn't have to get so upset about pants. In his opinion they'd all looked great, and honestly, she could wear a paperbag and still look beautiful.

Madge slumps on the bench, begins toying with the hem of her shirt. She shrugs.

Gale falls onto the bench beside her, throws his arm over the back and leans in to her side. "Tell me."

Her lips press together and she takes a deep breath. Gale automatically knows he isn't going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

"Did you tell 'Glimmer' goodbye?"

Gale blinks at her. His mouth turns down.

Why would he tell the flirty salesgirl goodby-

Oh.

He stares at Madge for a few seconds longer before his face breaks out in a grin.

"Are you jealous?"

She crosses her arms a little more tightly over her stomach and shifts to that her body is facing a little more away from him. "No."

Gale scoots a little closer, snakes his arms around her waist and tugs her back toward him and lets his chin come to a rest on her shoulder. He tilts his head and grins a little more widely into her cheek. "You are jealous."

Madge jerks a little, he probably shouldn't have toyed with her, but it's more than a little gratifying to know that he can make her jealous. Even if he doesn't intend to. Sometimes he feels like he's more interested in her than she is in him. Seeing her upset at only seeing the last half of a one-sided flirt-off, though, gives him a little more confidence that she's as much into the relationship as he is.

One of his hands gives her a little squeeze, just enough to tickle her, and she jumps.

"Don't," she warns him. Her mouth has twitched up though, into an almost smile, so he does it again.

In the span of five seconds the last traces of her irritation melt away and she dissolves into an un-ladylike heap of giggles and snorts. It's almost comical how ticklish she is. He's barely trying.

"Gale, please, stop. We're in the middle of the mall," she pleads, still laughing and trying to wiggle away from him.

"Only if you listen to me," he tells her.

When she finally nods, little tendrils of hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail during their one-sided tickle match floating around her head, he stops. He pulls her back fully onto the bench, she'd wormed her way almost off the edge during the tickling, and wraps an arm over her shoulder.

"You don't have to be jealous of some stupid girl in your overpriced store," he tells her when the last of her giggles dissipate. "Understand?"

Glimmer is pretty, but she wears too much make up. Her hair, as nice as it looked, probably took hours to style and her clothes most likely cost more than Gale's truck. If they put a picture in the dictionary next to the words 'high maintenance', Gale is confident that girl's amateur modeling photo shoot would be on the next page in all its glossy glory.

She just isn't Gale's type. Maybe a few years ago, even possibly a few months ago depending on how hopeless he'd felt, she might've been, but not now.

She's a quick mover and easy to ditch, he knows girls like that when he sees them. They were the kind of girls he's always gone for. Unfortunately, Gale was a guy like that, or at least he had been, and Glimmer had probably sensed the fading traces of it on him.

Madge nods.

"I mean it," Gale tells her. "You don't have to be jealous."

"Easy for you to say," she mumbles. Her eyes flicker over her shoulder at him. "You aren't the 'Roger Rabbit' in this relationship."

It takes him a second to process what she's said, and even then he doesn't get it.

"What?"

She wiggles around, scoots back a little so that they're face to face.

"In some couples there's a big mismatch. Like Roger Rabbit and Jessica." She gestures to herself. "I'm Roger Rabbit," she tosses her hand out at Gale, "and you're Jessica."

Gale isn't certain what expression he's making, but he hopes it's appropriately mortified. Did she really just compare herself to a cartoon rabbit and him to an animated sex-symbol?

He scowls at her. "Who told you that crap?"

Her mouth turns up at the edges, just a little. "Nobody had to tell me. I'm not blind."

Clearly she is. Gale thinks maybe he should go to her house and check her mirrors. Someone has obviously changed them all out with crappy funhouse ones and completely confused her.

"You aren't the 'Roger Rabbit' here," he grumbles. "And I'm definitely not the 'Jessica'."

"Gale," she reaches out, takes his hand. "It's okay. I mean, Roger was funny and sweet and Jessica really loved him, but they were completely mismatched."

With a grunt, he pulls her a little closer, fixes her in a stern look.

"We are not mismatched." If anything, he's the 'Roger Rabbit', clueless and completely enamored with his 'Jessica'.

She doesn't look like she even remotely believes him. Her smile is still sad and her whole body continues to drooping.

Madge is gorgeous and smart and a million other things he can't pin names on. She isn't the goofy half of the couple to his blood boiling beauty. He just wishes she could see that.

This isn't something he's going to fix in one afternoon at the mall, even if that's all that it took to bring it to his attention.

"Come on." He stands and tugs her up. "Let's get out of this place."

The mall is cursed. It's given him hives and made his amazing girlfriend think she isn't good enough for him, which is completely ridiculous.

She lets him pull her from the bench and wrap an arm around her shoulder as he leads her out the automatic doors that lead out to the parking lot.

He'd been thinking about letting Mellark accompany Madge to the mall next time, but now he's certain he'll have to make at least a few more painful visits to what is quickly becoming his least favorite place on earth.

Madge's lack of confidence in herself is worrisome, and he needs to keep a closer eye on it, make sure she knows that no matter how many 'Glimmers' they run into, he isn't going to drop her. He won't let her go on thinking she's the 'Roger Rabbit' of the couple, or that he's the 'Jessica'.

"I can't be the 'Jessica'," he tells her suddenly. "I look terrible in red and I just don't have the cleavage for that dress."

She snorts and the weight on his chest lightens. "I don't know. Red might look good on you, and even if you don't have the cleavage, you definitely have the legs."

Teasing him is a promising sign. He dips down and catches her lips, enjoys the taste of her strawberry chapstick.

Hoisting her up, she squeals as he carries her to the truck, spins her around before pushing her up against the side cab and kissing her again.

The afternoon can be as long as it likes now that Gale has escaped the mall. He needs as many free hours with his girlfriend as he can get. She clearly needs him to show her how wonderful she is, and he's all too happy to provide that reinforcement.


	12. Candy man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

June after Freshman Year

Gale knew the old man that owned the candy and ice cream shop had a granddaughter. Over the years, on the rare occasion he'd gotten to get a treat for his siblings and himself, he'd even seen the gangly girl hanging around the back, helping her granddad with the register and scooping their homemade ice cream out. It hadn't occurred to him who she was, though, until now.

The shop is only open three days a week, and only during the summer. The old man, Hershel Donner, is technically retired. He's got health issues and can't handle five days a week, but he apparently enjoys stuffing the kids of Dozen's Hollow too much to stop completely.

Gale realizes now, much too late, that he only opens during the summer because that's when he has his little helper available.

Of course Gale has his siblings, and of course all three are acting like high octane brats when he figures all this out.

He'd made a promise to them: if they helped him get the house cleaned up before their mom got home from her extra shift at the dry cleaners and their dad got off work, he would take them for a small before dinner snack.

He now knows that was a terrible mistake.

Posy is rubbing her sweaty hands and dirty face all over the glass case displaying the handmade chocolates. Vick is asking Madge a hundred and one questions about the ice cream flavors of the day. God only knows where Rory is. Probably out playing in the street. That would be Gale's luck.

"Gale!" Post stomps her foot when it becomes apparent her oldest brother hasn't heard a word she's said. "I want-I want these-es."

She gestures to several large slabs of fudge.

"No Posy, I said one thing for each of you." He isn't made of money and neither are their parents.

"Which is your favorite?" Gale hears Vick ask Madge.

She's been infinitely patient with him, answering each and every one of his pointless questions.

Gale watches out of the corner if his eye as she presses her lips together in thought.

"Well," she starts, "my favorite is strawberry."

Vick nods thoughtfully, let's his little eyes fall to the canister labeled 'strawberry', and smiles. "Strawberries are my favorite too."

That liar. He's never expressed any berry preference in his life. Gale's pretty sure his youngest brother is flirting, and doing a fair job of it judging by Madge's little smile.

"Well in that case I'll give you a double scoop for a single price, sound good?"

Gale shoots his brother the dirtiest look he can when Vick turns and gives him the widest puppy dog eyes he can manage. Despite the burning desire to tell Vick not only 'no' but 'hell no', he'll ruin his dinner with that much sugar and be and unbearable pain in the back side with what will undoubtedly be the world's most obnoxious sugar-high, Gale feels Madge's big blue eyes on him. It'll garner him so good attention for once, even if it costs him several hours of sleep.

"Fine," Gale grunts out.

Madge's granddad, old Herschel, limps up to the case where Posy is and smiles down at her. "And it's only fair you get a double treat since your brother does."

Posy squeals and Gale loses some of his hearing.

"I want TWO of the peanut butter chocolate thingies," she tells him, pointing carefully at her selection for good measure.

"Excellent choice," Herschel tells her as he reaches in and grabs two enormous hunks of fudge for her. He doesn't bother weighing it, just wraps it up and hands it to her.

"Do you want something?" Madge has slid down the counter, is directly behind Gale, tapping idly on the cash register.

You.

He mentally slaps himself. While Madge is certainly sweet, Gale doubts Herschel would put his clearly beloved granddaughter on his price list.

Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, as it normally is. She's got on a pair of painfully short shorts and a wispy looking top under the red and white apron with the shops emblem on it.

Gale realizes he's staring when Vick starts choking on his ice cream.

"Take that a little slower," Herschel warns Vick with a smile as he hands him a napkin to wipe some wayward strawberry from his chin.

Madge snorts as Vick carefully rubs the chunk off and makes a horrified face when he sees how much had been on him.

After a few minutes she looks back at Gale. "So…did you want something?"

He shakes his head, not trusting himself to talk in her presence. It feels like every time he opens his mouth around her he says or does something humiliating, so gestures and vague noises are the best he can do most days.

"Where's Rory?" Posy suddenly asks, mouth full of fudge.

Gale shrugs.

If they're lucky he's just fallen asleep on the bench out front, his current growth spurt is wearing him out. If, as Gale deeply fears, they're not lucky he's off committing a crime of annoyance against some poor unsuspecting passerby.

"That's your other brother, right?" Madge asks.

Vick nods, "Yeah. Gale lost him."

"I didn't lose him." He just doesn't know where the little jerk is and he isn't in any particular hurry to find him before they leave the shop. Rory has the uncanny ability to embarrass Gale with perfect ease and he doesn't need help doing that in front of Madge.

Madge blinks at him, looks a little confused as only someone who doesn't have bratty siblings can be.

"He's not lost." Gale quickly clarifies. That's just what he needs, Madge thinking he's negligent with his siblings. "He saw one of his friends and ran off to talk to him."

She doesn't look entirely convinced, but nods anyway.

"We should get Rory something," Posy tells them, right before stuffing another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"Posy, be careful," Gale sighs. That's all he needs. His baby sister choking herself on candy she shouldn't even have.

"Why should we get Rory anything?" Vick asks as he shovels in another spoonful of ice cream.

"Becaust he's our bwofer!" Posy answers, a little chocolate dribbling out of her mouth.

Herschel hands her a napkin. "And what do you think he would like?"

The way he acts, Gale would guess Rory would dearly like a swift kick in the pants. He keeps that to himself though.

Much as he doesn't want to buy Rory a treat, he'd run off after Gale had very loudly told him not to, it might make him look like a jerk to leave out one sibling. Especially when he's already acted flippant about losing that sibling.

"Do you have anything sour?"

Herschel and Madge exchange a look, maybe questioning Gale's motives or determining if they have anything sour.

Finally, Madge points to the middle case. "The grape glass candy is pretty tart."

"Perfect."

Herschel chuckles, grabs out a handful of the crunchy purple candy. Judging by his smirk when he hands it to Gale, he's got an annoying younger sibling.

"How much?" Gale asks, afraid of the answer. Even half off the giant stick messes Vick and Posy had was still a lot.

"Oh don't worry about that." Herschel waves his hands.

"Are you sure?" Gale hates charity.

"It's almost closing time and I like to end my work week with as few leftovers as possible."

Gale doesn't exactly believe him, but he doesn't feel like arguing. Especially with his brother and sister making a mess in the middle of the shop. It might be payment enough just to get the increasingly sticky pair out of poor Herschel's store.

Swiftly scooping up Posy and grabbing Vick by the collar, Gale turns to Madge and her granddad and gives them a small smile. "Thanks."

Backing into the door, Gale makes a quick exit.

Rory is sprawled out on the bench in front of Gale's truck, snoring, and Gale thanks his lucky stars he isn't going to have to drag his disgustingly sticky siblings down the walkway to find the pest.

Throwing the grape candy at Rory's head, Gale glowers down at him when he blinks awake. "Get up. We're going home and I'm never taking you anywhere ever again."

Not looking terribly upset, Rory sets up, stretches and yawns. Another small miracle, he's apparently too sleepy still to be a nuisance. He simply gets up and gets in the truck without incident.

Promising his siblings treats in exchange for labor was definitely a mistake, for more than one reason, his mother is going to kill him when one half of the Hawthorne children don't want dinner, but at least it might've earned him a few brownie points with Madge.


	13. All in the movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Summer After Freshman Year

This is one of the most humiliating events of my life.

Gale isn't sure how he got roped into taking his siblings to the movies. Not that he doesn't like the movies, but what his little sister wants to watch and what he wants to watch don't exactly line up.

He'd rather go with his brothers. Rory is old enough to keep an eye on Vick, so they don't have to have an escort. Posy on the other hand…

"I'm sorry Gale," his mother had apologized. "I wish I could go instead."

She had to pick up another shift at the dry cleaners though. They needed the extra money to help pay for Gale's football camp over the summer. He'd worked all year and had money for most of it, but he was still short. His mother wasn't about to let her 'baby' go out and get knocked around in subpar protection. The school sure as hell couldn't pay for it.

So Gale grits his teeth as he stands in line with his brothers and little sister to get their tickets. Rory and Vick to something interesting with explosions, and Gale and Posy to something animated with animals. The highlight of his summer for sure.

Just as he's resigned himself to his fate, prepared for a few hours long nap, he hears a painfully familiar snort of laughter behind him.

He doesn't turn, just cuts his eyes and catches her out the side.

Madge Undersee.

She's got her hair up, in a windswept ponytail. Her shirt is a little off kilter, probably from the wind, giving him a teasing glimpse of her purple bra, and if his mother saw her shorts she'd say they needed to go to the donations pile.

Gale's mouth goes instantly dry.

"What're you gawking at?" Rory asks as he cranes his neck, trying to spot whatever's caught Gale's attention.

Grabbing him by the shoulder, Gale spins his brother around. The last thing he needs is for Rory, a junior high pervert, to spot Madge. He can imagine all kinds of drivel coming out of his smartass mouth.

"Oh, it's Madge!" Vick grins, completely ignoring Gale and Rory's tussle. He raises his hand. "HI MADGE!"

Gale groans internally. How bad is his luck?

"It's the hot chick from the candy store." Rory makes a noise something like a 'rawr' and wags his eyebrows at Gale. "Vicki has the hots for her."

"I do not." Vick scowls at him. "And don't call me 'Vicki'."

Rory immediately begins chanting 'Vicki, Vicki, Vicki' under his breath.

Too distracted by the impending fight building up between his brothers, Gale doesn't notice Madge and, to his utter and complete disgust, Peeta Mellark, walk up.

She gives Vick a bright smile. "I thought I heard my name."

Vick nods. "Yeah, I yelled for you."

"Madge!" Posy grabs her hand. "Gale and me are gonna go see-"

Gale covers her mouth and pulls her back to him. It's bad enough he's going to see some sugary kiddie flick, he doesn't need Madge or Mellark knowing that.

Rory grins. "Oh? What was that, Pose? I don't think they heard you."

Shooting his brother a 'you say one more word and I'll give you a swirly' look, Gale glances at Madge. Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she frowns down at Posy.

"What're you going to see, Madge?" Vick asks as he wiggles around Gale and Posy.

She glances over at Mellark, frowns, then shrugs. "We hadn't picked yet."

"We come every 'dollar day'," Mellark adds as he eyes the list of showings. "So we've seen everything."

Gale grumbles 'must be nice' under his breath. It's directed at Mellark, but Madge hears it. Her expression falls and Gale immediately feels like the world's biggest jerk.

He starts to apologize but gets cut off by Rory.

"Nice shirt," he says. It's directed at Madge and Gale suddenly remembers her sloping neckline.

Her hand jumps up as she looks down, notices that the tiniest part of her bra is peaking out. Cheeks blossoming with crimson, she tugs it up and mutters. "Oh, thanks."

The group gets quiet after that. Even Posy, though that's mostly because she's mesmerized by the glowing display she's just discovered.

Mellark, apparently uncomfortable with the quiet, coughs. "So, what're you guys seeing."

Vick, who'd been fixated on where Madge's bra had been showing, snaps out of his reverie. He launches into a detailed spiel about the movie he and Rory are about to watch.

"But Gale has to go watch some girly movie with Posy," he finishes.

Mellark coughs to cover up a chuckle.

Feeling the heat rising on his cheeks, Gale is ready to snatch up his sister and leave Rory and Vick to their fate. Madge already has a poor opinion of him, so he's not really changing it by abandoning his pest brothers.

"You're going to watch a movie with your sister?" Madge asks.

Annoyed at having to admit to something so embarrassing, Gale glances over at her. "Yep."

"Oh," she says. A little smile forms on her mouth. "That's so sweet."

Caught off guard, Gale almost trips over Posy as she grabs onto his leg.

"Gale's very sweet," Posy tells her as she smiles up at her big brother.

His eyes flick up to Madge, just barely catching her smile brighten at Posy's remark.

"Maybe I'll come see your movie with you," Madge tells Posy as she crouches down to her level.

Mellark's eyebrows shoot up. He cuts Gale a look then grins. "Count me out, Madge. I'm up for explosions and fights."

Vick looks torn. For a minute Gale thinks his brother may decide to forfeit his long awaited chance to see the number one movie in the nation just so he can sit next to Madge. The draw of amazing computer graphics wins though, and he looks at Mellark.

"You should come with Rory and me," he says. Then he frowns. "Um, wait, who are you?"

Mellark holds out his hand. "Peeta Mellark."

Vick draws himself up, takes Mellarks hand. "Vick Hawthorne."

Rory pushes him out of the way. "Rory."

As they get their tickets Mellark and Gale's brothers go to the left and Gale, Madge, and Posy head right.

"Can we get popcorn, Gale?" Posy asks, jutting her lips out.

He doesn't want to tell her no, but the tickets for all four of them has already strained his wallet. There isn't enough money for the overpriced treats the stupid theater carries.

"Don't you like chocolate, Posy?" Madge asks.

Posy crosses her arms and bites her lip. "Yessss."

Madge pats her purse. "Well, I have some fudge and other candy from my Poppa's shop in my purse. That's better than popcorn isn't it?"

Gale's never seen his sister's eyes widen so quickly. "You got chocolate in your purse?"

"Yep," Madge nods. "Perk of being a girl."

Posy places a reverent hand on Madge's purse. "I'm glad I'm a girl."

#######

Gale enjoys the movie, though for the life of him he doesn't know what it's about. All he knows is he gets to be wedged between Madge and Posy for ninety minutes.

He nods off a few times, the plot isn't particularly enthralling, and Posy wakes him with a sharp jab to the side each time. Madge seems to find that funny.

Madge quietly hands out her smuggled candy in, and Posy quickly ends up with a candy covered face. Gale almost groans at the thought of having to scrub her down in the bathroom sink, he tries to avoid taking her in the bathroom in public for obvious reasons, but then Madge produces several wipes from her purse and hands them to him.

"Just call me Hermione," she tells him as she waves a hand at her magical purse.

Gale isn't sure what a 'hermione' is, but he nods anyway.

When the movie lets out they wait outside for Gale's brothers and Mellark to emerge from their movie, which ran about half an hour longer than Posy's cutsie mess.

He's grateful Posy is there to break the quiet. Gale's never been very good at small talk and he mostly just nods and mumbles at Madge's attempts rather than say something idiotic. She either doesn't notice or has the decency to not say anything.

Rory is the first to appear, bouncing around and gesturing to a pleasantly smiling Mellark. Vick is recounting, for what Gale is certain is the hundredth time, his favorite scene.

"Did you enjoy your movie too?" Mellark asks Posy.

You idiot. Gale thinks.

She nods, beams up at him, and begins talking, at a mile a minute, telling him each and every tiny detail about her movie. It's a rookie mistake, only a guy who doesn't have sisters would ask such a foolish question.

Despite having to listen to the entire plot of Posy's movie again, Gale doesn't mind. He just focuses on Madge in her windswept hair and too short shorts smiling and nodding at Posy's long and painfully detailed account of the movie.

The day might have been humiliating, and the movie awful, but watching Mellark have to listen to his little sister's long winded review and getting to spend a few more minutes staring at Madge's legs was certainly worth it.


	14. Wanna hold your hand, extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
> 
> AN: Again, theses are short little sections that I cut from the original story for whatever reason. I went through and reread it and decided you can never have enough Hawthorne family. So here you go.

Late March, Sophomore Year

Gale barely gets his truck parked, has himself just barely unbuckled, when his mother appears, starts tapping on the window.

She's grinning like a maniac, gesturing for him to open the door.

As soon as the door cracks she's on him.

"How did it go?"

He'd like to make her wonder, or even worry her by playing that he'd been rejected, but his face isn't cooperating. It's been fixed in a goofy grin for the last half of the day. The fact that when he got to the school to pick up his brothers and found they'd been told by his mother to ride the bus home instead of making Gale cart them, only served to brighten his mood.

Picking up on his good mood, his mother beams at him. She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, "I knew she'd say yes." Her worn hands smooth out his now rumpled collar, pats it down a little. "You clean up so well."

Forcing himself not to roll his eyes, Gale nods, grunts his agreement.

"She must be some girl," she gives him a little smirk. "If you went to all this trouble just for lunch."

Gale nods. His mother is nosy. She'll get the information she wants eventually, small towns are just like that, so he supposes it's best if he gives her the details himself.

"Madge is, uh, she's nice."

He's a master wordsmith. No wonder Madge was so easily swayed.

"She's really smart and, you know, pretty."

Gale runs his hand over his face, into his already wild hair, before letting it settle on his neck to massage out the anxiety of telling his mother about the girl he'd just asked to prom. It's never been this hard before to tell her about his dates. Maybe he's just out of practice.

"Smart, pretty, and nice." His mother nods. "She sounds lovely."

She sounds like a character from one of Posy's annoying cartoons.

Rolling his shoulders, they pop, Gale tries again.

"She's on the cross-country team, and, uh, takes a lot of the AP classes…"

…but she isn't just book smart, she has some of the best random knowledge Gale's ever heard. She's without a doubt the biggest nerd Gale's ever met, and it comes out in her weird knowledge base. Who knows what a trebuchet is? Madge Undersee, that's who.

She's funny too, not gross out funny but smart funny, which had never appealed to Gale before he met her. It makes him think, something no other girl he's hung out with, besides Katniss, has ever made him do.

Explaining that to his mother is impossible, though. It would only come out in a mushy sounding speech and Gale just won't do that.

"…and she's great, mom. Really great."

"I'm sure I'll love her," she tells him as she smooths his now rumpled collar down.

He grunts. His mother won't be meeting Madge for a while. His family is a bit…much. Madge will need a lot of preparing before he springs them on her.

A yell, something like a war-cry, comes from the front of the house. His brothers are home, and one of them has possibly lost a limb.

His mother gives him one last look, pats his shoulder, before taking off for the house to try and break-up whatever brawl his brothers are engaging in.

#######

It's getting dark out, the sky is a hazy purple when Gale's father pulls into the drive.

He gets out of his truck with a fading District seal on the door, covered in a thick layer of dust, looking exhausted, but happy to be home.

Spotting Gale trudging in from the garage, he raises his hand in a little wave, stops and waits for his son to catch up with him.

"How'd your day go?" He asks once Gale is at his side.

Gale shrugs, but his smile gives him away.

"What happened?" His dad arches his eyebrows. "You finally figure out where that rattle was coming from on your truck?"

"No." He hasn't. Why would he be grinning like an idiot over figuring out something so trivial anyway?

Gale starts rubbing the back of his neck again, lets his eyes stay focused on the ground. This is going to be unbearable. "Got a date for prom."

His dad's expression falters. "I thought you said prom was, uh, a 'god awful waste of time'?"

That statement still stands true. Prom is nothing short of a blackhole for hard earned money. A crepe paper strewn, tulle covered, high school hell.

But…Madge had said yes to going with him, so he couldn't completely hate it.

"Yeah," Gale mutters.

For a minute his dad stares at him, squints, trying to work out the half-hearted tone in Gale's voice. Then a grin, obnoxious and knowing, forms on his increasingly scraggly face.

"I see," he nods. "So what pretty girl talked you into it?"

Gale stuffs his hands into his pockets and glares at the ground, mumbles 'Madge' and starts to walk away, hoping his dad hadn't caught the name. His mother will fill him in later, but a few extra hours is enough time for Gale to shower and pretend to go to bed and avoid being smirked and needled by his dad.

Half-way to the back door, Gale's father jogs up and catches him.

"Madge?" He grins. "The pretty blonde car girl? The one you fixed the car for?"

Gale nods, preparing himself for the inevitable.

"I knew you liked her," his dad says, slapping him on the back. "Guess she didn't hate you as much as you thought, huh?"

That gets a grunt of affirmation from Gale.

They head in the house and Gale prays his parents keep their mouths shut about his prom plans. He isn't that lucky though.

"Do you want help picking out your dress for prom?" Rory asks, widening his eyes and batting his dark lashes at Gale.

Before Gale can tell him the only thing he'll let Rory pick out is whether he wants to spend the next week sleeping on the couch or on the floor, their mother intervenes.

"Rory, leave Gale alone," she tells him, giving him a little shove into his chair at the dinner table.

She's barely turned her back when Rory leans over. "So, what poor girl did you trick into this?"

At first Gale isn't going to answer, giving Rory the silent treatment is the quickest way to drive him up the wall, but the little pest is wising up to Gale's ways.

"She's ugly, isn't she?" Rory gives Vick a small nod. "He's embarrassed 'cause he got roped into going to prom with a hag. Pitiful."

Vick has started giggling, which only serves to increase Gale's agitation.

"She isn't ugly," he tells them through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, right," Rory snorts.

That's it.

"It's Madge Undersee," he snaps.

Both Rory and Vick's faces freeze, slip into disbelief.

"Uh-uh, you're lying," Vick almost gasps, shaking his head and frowning.

"No way. The candy guy's granddaughter? She's way too hot for you," Rory says, his face scrunched up, trying to find the lie in what Gale's just told them.

"Yes her, and I'm not lying," he grumbles, trying to turn away from them to help get the table better arranged. It's too small for all five of them.

"I take it back," Rory says, turning to Vick. "Gale tricked her."

Gale groans.


	15. Splish splash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine

July after Sophomore Year

Madge shifts in the increasingly sticky seat of Gale's truck and tries not to grimace as Vick digs his elbow into her side.

"Sorry," he whispers.

Madge just sighs.

They're only half a block from the splash pad and overcrowded public pool, and escaping the cab of Gale's truck, crammed full with the two of them plus his three siblings, will be a welcome relief. Even if she doesn't plan on getting wet.

She hadn't even worn a swimsuit, and she isn't sure who had been more disappointed in that: Gale or his brothers.

"You can't wear a tank top and shorts to the pool, Madge," Vick had told her, shaking his head at her woeful clothing choice.

"It isn't a tank top," she'd defended herself. "It's a spaghetti strap top."

They're completely different.

"Don't you have a bikini or something?" Rory had prodded looking monumentally underwhelmed with her top.

"I don't even know how to swim." So no, she didn't have a 'bikini or something'. Just the thought of trying to find a flattering piece of swimwear was enough to keep her from even entertaining the idea of learning.

"Nothing?" Gale made an almost pained face.

They probably would've driven her to the mall and made her buy one if not for Posy having a meltdown in the middle of Madge's driveway.

"I wanna go to the splish-splash pad!" She'd actually thrown herself down on the ground and started furiously kicking at the little bits of gravel, sending a few rocks at her brothers' heads.

Before Madge could even fully appreciate the sheer volume of Posy's screeches and the velocity of the gravel spray she was sending towards her brothers, Gale had scooped his sister up and deposited her in the floorboard of the truck. "All right, come on."

Obediently, Vick and Rory had climbed in, scuffling over who had to hold Posy in their lap and who got to sit next to Madge.

"Rory is holding Posy and…Vick is next to Madge," Gale had finally told them, earning him an appalled look from Rory.

After that, the short ride to the water complex wasn't short enough.

Rory kept leaning across the dash, under the guise of changing the radio, but Madge suspected he was simply trying to get a better view of her chest and Posy was still sniffling and making whining noises from his lap. The thing that had made the ride uncomfortable, though, was poor, sweet Vick.

"Are you afraid they wouldn't have your size?" He asked her a few seconds after they pulled out of the drive.

Madge frowned over at him. "What?"

"In the bikini," he clarified. "Is that why you don't have one?"

"Vick," Gale growls across to him, trying to silence him.

The subtle encouragement was apparently lost on Vick.

"What?" He scrunches his nose. "She's got big boobs. Maybe they don't make them in her size at the store."

As Madge is about to tell him she has a perfectly normal sized bust, he smiles up at her. "Maybe you can find one on the internet. They have everything there."

"I bet Gale would be happy to help you look," Rory adds less than helpfully.

"You could get one that's all sparkle-y!" Posy squeals.

Like a showgirl, Madge thinks with a groan.

"No more talking," Gale tells them all sharply, silencing the truck.

When they all finally tumble out of the truck, slightly irritable, the AC isn't blowing out as coolly as it should, Gale pulls Madge to the back of the truck bed and sighs.

"Uh, sorry about that," he tells her, running his hand through his already sweaty hair.

Madge shrugs. As embarrassing as it had been, Gale had warned her that his brothers were a bit girl-crazy at the moment. She hadn't been wholly unprepared. Though she thinks she'll wear higher necklines with them around from now on.

"So," he glances over his shoulder at his grumbling siblings. "Are you really okay with watching Posy on the splash pad?"

That had been the plan. Since she wasn't swimming, Madge was given 'kiddie' duty, stuck in the brightly colored, water spray world with Posy, at least until she wore herself out. Gale had assured her that would take maybe thirty minutes tops.

"She has no stamina," he told her.

At the time Madge had thought it was the perfect way out of looking like a complete dork sitting by the pool. Now though, looking at Gale in his swim trunks and what she's certain only constitutes a quarter of a shirt, showing a generous amount of his warm, taut skin underneath, she's regretting her decision. Especially when she spots Chesney Shumard, with her golden tan and obnoxiously perfect hair, sitting in the lifeguard chair, high above the pool. She'll have perfect view of Gale, in all his shirtless glory, and Madge will be stuck on the far side of the fence without so much as a glimpse of his tanned and toned torso.

It's unfair.

It's too late to change plans now, and Madge can't bring herself to disappoint Gale, or even Vick and Rory, by changing her mind, just because she isn't going to get to oogle her own boyfriend.

"Of course," she tells him with a bright smile.

He leans in, Madge can feel the heat and moisture radiating off him, and presses a quick kiss to her lips. "You're the best."

She certainly hopes he remembers that if Chesney has to give him mouth-to-mouth.

Gale scoops up Posy, gives her a kiss on the cheek and tells her to behave herself, then sets her down and takes off after Vick and Rory, both of which are running at breakneck speeds through the throngs surrounding the pool.

Posy takes Madge's hand and tugs her toward the newest section, only a couple of years old, where the splash pad is already crammed with children.

It has to be filthy. Just the sheer number of children, dirty bare feet and poorly secured little spashers underpants ensure that the slip-proof rubber ground below them is undoubtedly teaming with bacteria. While she's sure it's cleaner than the community pool, the thought of which makes her feel a little ill, it's still uncomfortably dirty.

She wishes she'd worn waterproof footwear instead of her cheap flip-flops.

Posy begins playing with a group of children she must know from school, leaving Madge to settle down on a bench and watch her.

Despite bringing a book to read, occupy her mind until Posy runs out of energy, Madge keeps looking toward the pool, making sure Chesney is still stuck up in her seat.

She is, but she's enjoying herself too much. There's a smirk on her face, and Madge has a pretty good idea why. In her mind she can picture Gale, horsing around with his brothers, providing Chesney and any other girls at the pool with plenty of images for sweet dreams during the night.

Madge crosses her arms and sends a glare Chesney's way. Shouldn't she have white stuff on her nose? Zinc? And this is a community pool, not Baywatch, she needs to be in a one piece. Maybe even one of those turn of the century swimsuits with stripes and a skirt. If she didn't look like the next cover of the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated then maybe she would be a little more focused on her job and not on flirting.

It's irrational, Madge knows that, but she's stuck watching mothers kiss boo-boos and gossip about other mothers while their children terrorize one another, she can't think clearly at the moment.

"I'm bored," Posy says as she flops onto the ground by Madge's feet. She's drenched, glistening with water from head to toe, and her cheeks are a little pink.

"Do you want to go play in the big pool with your brothers?" Please say yes.

Posy sighs, collapses back onto the grass. "I wanna take a nap."

Standing, Madge pulls some sunscreen from her bag and squirts it on her hands, reaches down and begins rubbing some on Posy's cheeks. "Well, let's go take a nap by the pool."

"Why?" She asks as she tries to dodge Madge's lotion-y hands.

So I can keep an eye on your brother. "In case the boys want to leave early."

"They never want to leave early," Posy informs her, wiping some of the sunscreen from her slightly less flushed cheeks.

Of course they don't. That would be Madge's luck. This isn't a 'dive in movie' night, though, so the pool will close before sundown. Only…several hours to go.

Maybe next time Madge won't offer to come to the pool with them.

That thought reverses itself when she hears the lifeguard's whistle blow, looks over her shoulder and spots Chesney giving someone a dazzling smile along with a reprimand. Madge will be at the pool everyday Gale is.

Taking Posy's hand, now slick with water and the highest SPF Madge could find at the drugstore, Madge pulls her to her feet and tugs her with her to the fence. They cross through the gate and find seats along the wall, in the shade, and Posy collapses into a heap on a public lounge chair.

Settling in the chair next to her, Madge quickly finds Gale, looking like the epitome of male fitness, tossing Vick over his head and dunking an agitated looking Rory under the water.

She can't believe she was ever annoyed with him for taking his shirt off during school. He shouldn't have to wear a shirt at all. Granted, most other men would feel a little inferior the moment they saw him…

Just as she's about to pull her book back out, pretend to read while actually watching Gale, Madge hears a little giggle.

Posy has rolled over, is on her stomach, cheek to the cheap plastic chair, smiling at Madge.

Madge feels her cheeks warm at having been caught staring at Gale, though she doesn't really think Posy is giggling at that.

"You like Gale without his shirt on," Posy says in a sing-song voice.

Maybe she was giggling at that.

Uncertain how to respond to that, Madge just stares at her. Finally, her mind wakes up.

"Why would you think that?"

"'Cause Rory said Gale would like to see you with your shirt off," Posy answers.

Heat floods Madge's face. "Oh?"

Posy sits up, nodding sharply. "Uh-huh. He said Gale wants to get in your pants." She frowns. "I don't think so though. Your pants are too little for Gale."

Madge tries not to laugh at Posy's misunderstanding.

"And Rory said that's why Gale wanted you to come to the pool with us, so he could see what was under your shirt and show off his sixth packs." Posy looks over her shoulder at her brothers and wrinkles her nose. "He didn't even bring any drinks."

Not wanting to be the one to explain to Posy that the 'sixth packs' Gale brought were the well defined muscles on his sickeningly perfect stomach, Madge just nods and grabs for her book.

Posy crawls over her chair and scoots in next to Madge. It's uncomfortable, having Posy's sticky wet skin against hers, mostly because it seems to intensify the heat. Madge can handle that, though. What she can't handle is Posy attempting to look down her shirt.

"You even don't have anything in there," Posy says as Madge pulls her neckline up several inches. "I thought you might be hiding candy, like you did with your purse at the movies."

The day is clearly a disappointment all around for Posy and her quest to understand her brothers' cryptic conversations.

With a forced and pained smile, Madge just sighs. She isn't sure who is going to have to explain things to Posy, but she doesn't envy them. She's never been more happy not to have a younger sibling than she is now.

#######

"So you wanted to 'see what's under my shirt'?" Madge asks Gale as they sit under the shade tree in his backyard and wait for his mother to finish cooking dinner. Insects buzz in the distance and a few fireflies flash to life in the early evening around them.

His face instantly goes several shades darker and he glares around, probably for Rory. "Who told you that?"

Madge tries to fight off a smirk, she knows he's already planning how badly he wants to smother his brothers. "Posy."

Gale's expression falls. He rolls his eyes. "The last one I'd expect."

"You boys should probably watch what you say around her. There's no telling what she'll repeat at school."

On more than one occasion, Madge had gotten in trouble at school for using some of Mr. Abernathy's more interesting vocabulary, and he had genuinely tried not to say awful things in front of her.

"Just…don't repeat anything Haymitch says. Ever," her father had finally told her.

"Yeah," Gale grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring over the yard at his sister, now sitting in her sandbox building castles. "You're probably right."

He settles his back against the tree and wraps his arm around Madge's shoulder.

"So, when are you going to let me teach you to swim?" He finally asks, once he's lulled her into a false sense of security.

"Thursday after never," Madge tells him, not even taking a breath to think about it.

Gale scowls. "Why not?"

She tugs her neckline up again. "Because, I feel exposed enough in this shirt, I'd die of embarrassment in a swimsuit."

"Why?" He asks, looking utterly baffled.

"Two words." Madge holds up one finger. "Pale." She holds up a second finger. "Doughy."

His eyebrows arch up. "What's Mellark have to do with this?"

Madge can't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "I'm not talking about Peeta. I'm talking about me."

It's almost comical, the look of confusion on his face. His eyebrows scrunch together and his mouth turns down as he tries to figure out just what exactly she's talking about. Then his shoulders drop slightly.

"You aren't doughy," he tells her as his hand snakes under the hem of her shirt and squeezes at her side. "And you're 'fair', not pale."

"That's short for 'pasty', Gale," Madge informs him with a smile. "I'm so pasty I could blind at least half the football team if I accidentally let my shirt ride up."

"They'd all happily lose their eyesight for you," he informs her. "This one in particular."

"You say that now, but when you're having to fumble around in the dark because my ghostly pallor has burned your retinas, you might think differently."

Gale's hand gives her side another squeeze and his lips press into her hair. "Naw, it'd be worth it."

With another shake of her head, Madge pinches him back. "You're just trying to find the candy I'm hiding in my shirt."

He grins. "You bet I am."

As he begins kissing her, teeth nipping at the slightly reddened skin on her shoulder, Madge tries not to giggle as she plays watch-out, she doesn't want to get caught making out by Gale's dad again.

Just as he's about lulled her into a stupor, her hands have developed minds of their own and begin tracing lines on the muscles of his stomach and her eyes have drifted shut, his mother calls to them from the back door.

"Get out from behind that tree and come get dinner!"

Gale curses under his breath, sending hot puffs of air across Madge's back and making her snort.

She gets up, dusts some of the dry grass from her shorts and offers him a hand. He gives her a narrow look.

"This conversation isn't over," he tells her as he gets to his feet and snakes his arm over her shoulder.

Madge rolls her eyes. There was very little conversing going on at the end, but she decides not to point that out.

"I'll give you private lessons," he says with a smile. "There's a pond over on my granddad's place…"

"No Gale." She isn't getting dragged out to some muddy hole for what she's certain would be the shortest and least informative swimming lessons in the history of aquatic sports.

He pinches her side again. "We'll see."


	16. Loving fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

March, Sophomore Year

Madge groans as she just barely catches the volleyball lobbed at her head by Coach Oberst.

They rotate through the offseason sports each day, and just Madge's luck, on the rainiest, nastiest day of the year, only the second day so disgusting outside that Coach Cray decided the offseason boys had to come in and invade the gym. The day they had to play volleyball, and all the girls who didn't play were stuck wearing the worst of the worst of the tiny spandex shorts.

"I think I've got a wedgie," Delly grumbles, picking at her too small shorts.

Madge does a little wiggle, trying to work her own shorts into a less uncomfortable position. It doesn't help.

The boys are on the other side of the gym, apparently playing shirts verses skins basketball, which Chesney and Pressley seem to think watching is a better use of their time. Madge would be inclined to agree, if she weren't focusing on keeping her muffin top from being too prominent. Really, who thought these shorts were a good idea? And why weren't there more large tops? If she was going to do an impression of a tube of toothpaste she at least needed something to hide the ugly side effects.

While she's trying to tug her shirt out to hide the little bulges the shorts are creating, Katniss jerks her head toward the corner of the gym, by the inwardly folded bleachers and under one of the smaller basketball goals.

Katniss takes the ball from Madge and bounces it up on her forearms. Since they can't use the whole gym Coach Oberst has them practicing passes, though Madge doesn't know why. The only ones benefiting from it are the ones actually on the team. Despite, on more than one occasion, Madge asking to have the hour turned into a study hour, some cruel overlord, probably Principal Snow, had decided it was 'character building' for them to practice each others' sports. Madge isn't so sure, but since no one listens to her, she's stuck in spandex.

Trying to ignore the boys, specifically Gale, who despite the fact that winter is only just ending is perfectly tanned looking, something that has no doubt caught the drooling Chesney's attention, Madge inexpertly tries to bounce the ball back to Katniss. It goes over her head and into the back of Pressley's.

"Watch it, Madge!" Pressley snaps. Madge apparently interrupted her oogling Hawthorne time.

With a roll of her eyes, Katniss catches the ball as Pressley hurls it back at the pair.

"Sorry!" Madge yells, for all the good it does. Pressley is already back to salivating over Gale's abs with Chesney.

Taking a few step closer, Katniss gently bounces the ball back to Madge. "Keep your shoulders straight. The ball is going to follow where you're pointing them."

Heat floods Madge's face. She's lucky her ball hadn't had more force behind it or it would've landed squarely on Gale Hawthorne's well toned backside.

"Okay," she mutters.

They manage to go for several minutes, gently passing the ball back and forth, without any mistakes before a commotion makes Madge miss the ball completely. It sails past her head and rolls out the double doors and into the hall.

"Damn it, Cartwright!" Coach Oberst yells at the tearful Delly. "I told you no serves today!"

"I didn't mean to!" Delly tells her, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Delly and her partner's ball is missing and it takes Madge only a second to realize where it's gone.

The top of the ancient gym has rafters and lines of flickering florescent bulbs, and at least one a week, usually during volleyball day, someone either knocks out a light or lodges a ball up in the exposed metal of the roof. Delly's ball is stuck, quite firmly, at the junction of two metal beams.

The boys begin laughing and Delly runs for the locker room. Madge thinks that's a little dramatic, all of them have gotten a ball stuck in the ceiling before, but when she hears the boys making crude jokes about Delly being rough on balls she is more sympathetic.

"God they're idiots," Katniss grumbles. "Is that all they think about?"

Madge nods. From what she's gathered, boys minds are at least fifty percent overly obsessed with their own anatomy. The other fifty is focused on female anatomy, despite their woeful understanding of it.

"Throw a basketball at it. That'll knock it down," one of the boys says to a round of approving yells.

Not wanting to be showered in glass, which is where this little experiment is going to end, Madge knows it, she ducks into the hall to retrieve her lost ball.

Looking around, Madge doesn't see it.

With a huff, Madge gets down and squints under several dust covered pieces of equipment, it wouldn't be the first time she's had to crawl under the stupid things to recover a lost volleyball.

Crawling along the floor, which is probably sweat splattered and disgusting, Madge reaches blindly under one of the large laundry carts, filled with old seat scooters, since she can't get a good look under it.

"Looking for this?"

Madge's head whips over and finds a pair of ratty looking gym shoes. With a sigh, she looks up. Gale is grinning down at her, palming her lost ball in his left hand.

Annoyed, he would be the one to find it, Madge gets to her feet and tries to take it from him.

He lifts it above his head, far out of Madge's reach, an obnoxious grin on his face. "Uh-uh. What's the magic word?"

She would jump up and grab it, he wouldn't expect that, but her luck she'd fall and end up face first in his bare chest. As appealing as that might be to most of the female population of her high school, a face full of Gale Hawthorne's sweaty skin isn't really the best way Madge can imagine ending the day.

Biting back a snappy 'Now', Madge lets out a long, slow breath. "Please."

Gale considers her for a minute, his eyes travel up and down her hideous outfit, then he lowers the ball.

"Thank you," Madge mumbles, turning her back to him and taking long strides to try and put distance between herself and Gale.

Gale catches up with her, probably in a few steps with his long legs, and gives her a little smirk over his shoulder. "Nice shorts."

If looks could kill Gale would be dead. Madge gives him as filthy a look as she can muster before turning her focus back in front of her. Unlike him, with his bare chest and low riding shorts, she isn't trying to get anyone to look at her.

"What's all the yelling about?" He asks as they reach the double doors back to the gym.

Despite wanting to ignore him, it seems a harmless enough question.

"Delly got her ball stuck in the ceiling," she tells him.

Gale snickers.

"Really?" Madge gives him a sidelong look.

He shrugs.

Several boys had apparently tried to hit the volleyball down, but as it was still firmly stuck, none of them had apparently succeeded. Gale looks over at Madge, stares at her for several seconds, then turns back to the scene with a grin. "Amateurs."

He takes a few long strides, past Chesney and Pressley, and snatches up a ball from one of his friends.

"I'll get this," he tells them confidently.

It's going to end badly, Madge can sense it, but a morbid sense of curiosity overtakes her and she rejoins the group.

"Hit it hard, Hawthorne," Coach Cray tells him, to the lewd cheers of the other boys.

"Hit it hard," one of the boys yells, making a dirty gesture with his hands.

Madge rolls her eyes but the sheer level of stupidity is apparently too much for Katniss, who makes an inscrutable face before turning on her heels and heading to the locker room.

Despite the feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her she should follow her, Madge stays rooted in the spot.

Gale smacks the ball between his hands, the slap echoing off the gym walls, then glances over the group. Madge would almost say he was looking for someone, probably Katniss judging by how his eyes find the spot she'd just vacated. Then, with a little smirk, he pulls back before hurling the basketball at the ceiling.

It hits Delly's ball perfectly, dislodging it and sending them both to the ground. Madge is about to be impressed, but is stopped short when the basketball comes down, hard and loud, just to the left of her.

She shrieks and reaches up to protect her face.

"Alright there, Undersee?" Coach Cray asks. Coach Oberst is too busy laughing to be concerned.

Red with embarrassment, she's probably upset the freshman art class across the hall she'd yelled so loudly, Madge looks up and nods.

Before anyone can make any jokes about taking a ball to the face, which Madge can feel coming in her bones, the bell rings.

#######

When she finishes combing out her hair, picking the sweaty rat out, Madge closes her locker.

Katniss, who is already dressed and ready to go, sits down beside her.

"Why are you still here?" Madge asks. If she'd left when Katniss had she would already be out the door.

"Just making sure you weren't mad," Katniss says flatly.

Madge frowns. "Mad about what?"

Katniss' eyebrows rise, she gives Madge a scrutinizing look. "Nothing."

She gets up and walks out, leaving Madge more than a little confused.

"She's such a weirdo," Chesney says, slamming her locker and tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I don't know what Gale sees in her."

Madge rolls her eyes and bites back saying that even Gale probably wants to have a half-way intelligent conversation every once in a while. She doesn't though, mostly because with Gale's track record conversation probably isn't what's on his mind where girls are concerned.

His friendship with Katniss is a mystery, but not one Madge feels like dissecting with Chesney. Especially since she can already tell what direction the conversation will take.

Choosing to ignore Chesney, Madge packs up her things and heads out to meet Peeta.

Maybe they'll get a free day tomorrow and Madge can convince Coach Oberst to let them use the seat scooters. Madge might be able to convince Katniss to help roll over Chesney's fingers.

That would be a much more pleasant way to spend the hour than sprinting.


	17. Loving fun, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

March, Sophomore Year

Gale almost takes a sweaty elbow to the face. It isn't his fault. Madge's shorts are distracting him.

"You need to focus, Gabri-Gale," Thom tells him as they take a break.

Rubbing the sweat from his face and running his hand through his sopping wet hair, Gale rolls his eyes and tries not to let Thom see him glancing at the girls' end of the gym.

To his annoyance, Chesney and Pressley, as well as Katniss, are now blocking his view of Madge and her amazingly tight shorts. They're better than her cross country shorts by a long shot. Would it be too much to ask for her to have her back to him?

Apparently so.

First off, from the angle she was at, Gale couldn't appreciate the good work the spandex was doing. Second, she couldn't see him.

Gale had switched teams, it was his turn to be shirts, to try and draw her attention. All that work was going to be wasted if she didn't have a good view of him. What good was abandoning his regular team and shedding his shirt if he wasn't even going to catch the eye of the one person he wanted?

Coach Cray blows his whistle, robbing Gale of some of his hearing, and the game resumes.

Thom slaps Gale on the back of the head, cringing and wiping sweat on his shirt after he does so.

"The shorts are out of your reach, man. Let it go."

"If you start singing, so help me god, I will knock you to the ground so hard," Gale threatens him as they get into a shoving fight, each trying to get the better position.

One of the freshmen boys passes Gale the ball, easily lobbing it over Thom's head. With little effort Gale turns and shoots.

The ball sails, a perfect arch, through the air, making a satisfying swooshing noise as it goes through the hoop.

Stealthily, Gale tries to see if Madge had seen the score. There was no way she couldn't be impressed with a three pointer from the outside. No backboard and a hand in his face. It was beautiful and definitely in her eyeline.

To his great disappointment she isn't looking, is making no indication she noticed his feat at all, and from behind him Thom snickers.

"Just talk to the girl."

Gale huffs in agitation and looks around. He takes off, jogging toward Coach Cray.

"I need to use the toilet," he tells him as he breezes past and towards the hall leading to the locker rooms.

"Make it fast, Hawthorne," is all Coach Cray says in response.

Gale takes his time, cutting behind the folded up bleachers before taking the corner, just out of view of the gym, and looking out.

Madge's back is to him as she and Katniss slowly pass the ball back and forth.

It's juvenile and he knows it, but her shorts really are spectacular. They're borrowed, he knows that, Katniss has complained about them on more than one occasion, and he sympathizes with the great dislike she and the other girls have for them, but Gale really likes them at the moment.

He's so entranced with them he nearly misses the yells coming from Delly Cartwright and the poor girl partnered with her.

Ducking down the hall, Gale hears a ball bounce into the hall behind him right as he pushes through the door to the locker room.

It's musty smelling, they really need to all chip in and buy some febreeze, and they need to enforce the food rule, he's sure he can smell something molding in one of the senior's lockers. It's a pit, and he idly wonders if the girls' locker room is any better. He's heard they have a couch and a fridge, which is totally unfair. The boys could really use a fridge.

After deciding that he might as well do something while he's in there, Gale finishes up before heading back to the gym.

The ball, which turned out to be a volleyball, has rolled down the hall, stopping just outside the locker room door, so Gale picks it up and prays it isn't Chesney or Pressley's.

Just as he steps out from behind the stack of boxes, filled with what he hopes are the new basketballs they've been promising since his freshman year, Gale almost doesn't notice someone down on their hands and knees, reaching under the laundry cart filled with sitting scooters.

He immediately knows who it is, even just seeing the top and back of her head. He's spent over a year memorizing how the light catches in her hair, there's no way he couldn't.

She's looking for the ball in his hand, he knows it. He's catching a break.

Taking a few steps, he closes the space between them.

"Looking for this?" He holds the ball out for her inspection.

Madge's mouth presses into a line and her eyebrows scrunch together before she lets out a little sigh. Gale almost reaches out to help her up, but she's on her feet before he can get his hands to catch up to his mind.

When she reaches out for the ball, though, he hoists it above his head, far out of her grasp. He doesn't want to go back to the gym quite yet or give up her undivided attention.

He gives her a nervous smile. "Uh-uh. What's the magic word?"

For a second he thinks he's made a mistake. Her mouth turns down and he expects her to say something sharp. He suddenly wishes he'd hosed himself down with body spray. As sweaty as he is, he probably smells only slightly better than his shoes. After a moment, she sighs again. "Please."

Gale considers her for a moment, hot and sweaty but in an otherwise amiable mood which he doesn't want to ruin. Carefully, he lowers the ball, holds it out to her.

She takes it back, mumbling a 'thank you' before turning to leave.

Not wanting to waste the few moments he has left without the screeching of shoes on cheaply polished wood and whistles blowing, Gale quickly catches up with her. He tries to think of something to say, something smooth or sweet, but all he comes up with is "Nice shorts."

Gale isn't even sure where on the spectrum of 'go to hell' the look Madge gives him is, but he's guessing pretty sure it's at the 'say that again and I castrate you' point.

When they get to the gym doors, Gale hears exciting wailing and decides to reattempt his failed conversation. "What's all the yelling about?"

Madge considers him for a second, then apparently decides there's no harm in answering. "Delly got her ball stuck in the ceiling."

Gale snickers.

Madge's eyes cut over and her expression droops further. "Really?"

He shrugs. It was a little funny, she had to admit that.

They watch the scene for a minute before Gale glances at Madge again. Surely getting the stupid ball down when none of the other guys could would be impressive, wouldn't it? It was at least worth a try, especially since talking to her wasn't his strong suite.

"Amateurs," he grins as he cuts across the gym and snatches a basketball from Thom. "I'll get this."

"Hit it hard, Hawthorne," Coach Cray tells him, and the other guys cheer.

"Hit it hard," one of the guys yells. Gale can't see him, but he imagines he's making an obligatory hand gesture. Freshmen.

Smacking the ball between his hands, making a loud popping noise fill the gym, Gale glances around. Katniss has left, she has a deep dislike of the theatrics of teenage males, but Madge is still there and watching, and that's all that matters to him. Fighting off a smile, Gale pulls back before hurling the ball at the ceiling.

It hits perfectly, both balls fall, quick and hard, down to the floor. Gale is seconds away from raising his arms in triumph, but then hears a squeal of fear.

Coach Oberst starts laughing and it only takes Gale a second to figure out why.

Madge has her hands over her face, protecting herself from the still bouncing balls beside her. Every eye is on her and her face is a blazing scarlet.

"Alright there, Undersee?" Coach Cray asks, though he looks like he might start laughing right along with Oberst.

Before Gale can get through the crowd to make sure she doesn't think he purposefully tried to hit her, though how he could've planned that out he isn't sure. He's good at math, but not that good.

Irritated, Gale runs his hands through his sweaty hair and gives it a tug.

"What?" Thom asks him as they head to the locker room.

"She looked mad, didn't she?"

"Not this again," Thom grumbles. He shoves the locker room door open and they push their way through the smelly crush to their lockers. "Just talk to her."

"I tried that," Gale tells him. "All I ended up doing was telling her I was looking at her butt."

Thom grins. "Well, that's a start."

"She wasn't impressed."

"Oh," Thom frowns. "Better luck next time?"

Deciding Thom is more harm than help, Gale fights himself into a presentable state and gathers up his dripping wet gym shorts, stuffing them into the mesh bag his mother had given him to bring them home in. He drops down onto the cement bench in front of his locker and pulls his phone out.

There's a text from Katniss.

'Be out in a second.'

Gale stares at the text for nearly a minute before he texts her back.

'Is Madge mad?'

It takes a few seconds, but Katniss text back. 'Mad about what?'

'Me. Feel it out. Be stealth about it.'

He stares anxiously at the phone. Several minutes later his phone vibrates.

'Not mad. I'm coming. Let's go.'

Letting out a long breath, Gale gets up and punches Thom in the shoulder. "See you later."

Thom grunts in response. He's too busy drenching himself in body spray to pay Gale much attention.

Feeling a little better, Gale grabs his bag and heads out.

Katniss is waiting in the hall, tapping her foot impatiently and giving Gale an agitated look. "Hurry up."

"What did she say?" Gale asks before they've even taken a step down the hall.

"She didn't even know what she might be mad about." Katniss rolls her eyes. "Stop making me your spy. It makes me uncomfortable."

Gale knocks her in the shoulder with his bag of sweat shorts. "But you're so good at it."

They stop and Katniss gives him a scrutinizing look, as if to say 'are you serious?'

It's too much for Gale and a burst of laughter breaks the silent look.

She shakes her head and starts walking again. "Almost had me."

In a few steps Gale is beside her again. He throws his bag over his shoulder and stuffs his free hand in his pocket.

"So…when is the next volleyball day?" He needs to fake an injury so he can stay in the gym. Those shorts are worth it.

Katniss groans.


	18. But a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine
> 
> AN: Just a warning, this chapter features some anatomy language. I don't fee like it's too much, esp after some of my other stories, but I figured I'd warn everyone.

Fall, Sophomore Year

Gale nearly groans when Ms. Coin pulls out a glossy looking diagram of a penis.

This is not what he'd signed up for. She isn't even the normal teacher. She's only filling in for one of the football coaches that had suffered from a fairly severe blow with a golf club to a very sensitive region of his anatomy. Supposedly it was an accident, but the fact that his wife had just found out about his girlfriend made that a little suspect.

He had only taken the stupid health class, a half semester blow-off, because Katniss had said Madge was enrolled.

"She said it'll be good to use as a study hall," Katniss had told him as she'd taken a bite of greasy pizza, some of the sauce dribbling down her front.

Madge is in the class, at the back, the seat next to his. Today she's in an oversized hoodie and a pair of yoga pants. He's never thought spandex looked so good.

Her arms are crossed over the top of her desk, her face buried in the fluffy fabric of her sleeves. Clearly, she's no more excited about the day's lesson than he is.

"Since I was told by administration, quite tersely, that I am not allowed to let you all practice putting condoms-"

There's an outraged cry from the male half of the class.

"-on bananas-"

The outrage dies down instantly.

"-I've decided to give you all a long, hard look at anatomy."

"Does she even hear herself?" Madge asks.

Gale stifles a snicker and gives her a sheepish grin when she gives him a horrified look. Apparently she hadn't realized she was speaking aloud. Her cheeks turn a warm pink.

"Shouldn't this class be taught by someone who has, you know, had sex before?" Gale asks, hoping to get her talking.

Unfortunately, Thom, whose life mission is to make Gale miserable, turns in his seat. He'd heard and opportunity, and he was seizing it.

"I do. Get up there and tell us all you know. We'll be out in ten minutes, fifteen tops."

It takes considerable restraint for Gale not to reach out and hit Thom. He needs better friends.

"I think you're mixing up my knowledge with your own, numb-nuts," Gale growls, just loud enough for Thom to hear, slouching back into his hard backed chair. His eyes cut over to find Madge has exited the conversation and it doodling absently in her notebook. He isn't sure if he's relieved or annoyed.

On one hand, he wants her to know he's a hot commodity. He's got skills, at least when he isn't around her, and if he can't display them then he at least needs to hype them up. On the other, the less reason she has to think he's some kind of high school Casanova the better.

He ends up settling on relieved.

"This," Ms. Coin takes her metal pointer and jabs the diagram, causing a little snap to echo through the room and all the boys to flinch, "is the scrotum. It houses the testes, which, as you all should know, makes the sperm."

She glowers out at the class. "And what do we know about sperm?"

Several hands go up, and she points at a curly haired girl.

"Go ahead, but if your answer involves telling me how it tastes I'll fail you so hard your great-grandchildren's GPA will suffer for it."

The girl's hand drops. "Nevermind."

Beside him, Madge snorts into her sleeve.

When she catches Gale giving her a bemused look, she shrugs. "What? That was funny."

Gale chuckles and turns back to the front. Coin has been known to hand out detention for less than a laugh and he doesn't feel like spending another hour in her chilly presence.

"Apart from spermatogenesis, the testes also produce the androgen testosterone, which is why some of you have hair in your 'private parts'."

Unable to keep it in, Gale lets out a burst of laughter, earning him a narrow, dangerous look from Coin.

"Since you've got a well developed five o'clock shadow and enough hair on your arms and legs to make a throw rug, I'm going to assume that you too have gone through the blessed event of puberty, Hawthorne, so I expect you to be able to sit through this lesson without giggling like a sugared up six year old."

The smile falls from his face and Gale nods.

He crosses his arms sullenly and tries to cover his arms, tucking his legs up under the chair uncomfortably.

He has a perfectly normal amount of body hair, thank you very much.

"When are we going to talk about boobs?" One of the boys up front asks.

Coin's narrow eyebrows arch up. "Young man, 'boobs', as you call them, are not sexual organs. They are mammary glands meant to nourish our young, not amuse the less intelligent of our species. If you don't learn about the basics of reproduction though, you will get to see them being employed for their intended use."

That shuts the boy up.

Gale hears Madge snort again and he sighs.

Even if Coin's lesson slowly kills him, at least he gets to hear Madge's stupid little snort.

#######

When class lets out, and Gale has the promise of the miracle of childbirth to look forward to the next day, he stands and stretches, letting out a long sigh.

He glances down just in time to catch Madge's gaze on his stomach, where his shirt had ridden up.

Her eyes widen and her cheeks tinge pink again before she busies herself with her notes and bag.

As she leaves, trying covertly to wiggle her pants out of her butt, Gale smiles to himself. She looked, and that's more than he's been getting. Her stupid snort and her yoga pants aren't the only thing he's getting out of the class.

It might not be turning out to be what he signed up for, but he's definitely enjoying it.


	19. Now or never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine
> 
> AN:Two things,the babies are real things, I had one when I was in junior high (we didn't have the fancy ones because they were too new at the time and we were poor), and if your name is Trinity, please don't hate me. It's just a joke. I have a cousin named Trinity, and she's easily the most precious person in my family, I picked it more or less because of the 'Matrix'.

Late March, Sophomore Year

Madge plops into the seat next to Gale. She looks exhausted, eyes drooping a little, hair messy, and her clothes, which are normally pressed and neat even when they're not catalog perfect, are rumpled and, if Gale's being completely honest, a bit sloppy, and he wonders if something is going on at home that's got her looking so unlike herself. He considers asking, even though it's none of his business and he can't think of a way to not sound rude, but stops when the bell rings shrilly, signaling class' start.

He's not excited about resuming the health class, even if Madge is in it with him. Coin is still teaching it, despite her very unique teaching methods, and an intervention by the school board.

"You'd think after the birthing video debacle she'd've been booted out," Katniss had said, when classes had resumed after the holidays.

"There were enough parents on her side that thought it was great birth control that they left her teaching it," Mellark explained with a shrug, whispering more to Katniss than to Gale, during their shared chemistry class.

The bell has barely finished ringing when Coin emerges, dragging a clunky looking box behind her.

"Don't everyone get up at once and help me," she grumbles, walking behind the box and giving it a rough shove with her foot, sending it into the side of the table at the front.

Turning back to the class, a wicked glint in her eye that can only mean pain and suffering ahead, she jabs her finger at the box.

"Since we can't afford new electronic babies for the parenting section of the class, we've received a donation from one of our richer neighbors." She reaches into the box and pulls a plastic baby doll out. "Practice babies."

It's not particularly cute, actually, Gale would call it a bit scary looking. Posy's doll Daisy is in better condition. Coin's doll is faded in the front, Gale suspects the previous 'parent' or two had left it in the car and let it fade in the sun like an unwanted shirt. He thinks that might get them a failing grade, but he isn't sure how sophisticated these new instruments of terror are going to be. He doubts he'll get lucky and they'll simply be just dolls.

"There are new ones with chips in them. They cry, and when they do you have to change their diaper, give them a bottle, rock them…all the same things you'd have to try with a real baby." She sighs, dropping the doll back into the box with a look of disappointment. "These just cry until you put a key in their back. Still, better than nothing."

"I thought we'd carry around a bag of flour," Thom says, eyeing the box cautiously.

"Flour doesn't cry. At least these stupid things do. Plus, there's a recording device in each baby. It'll tell me if you abuse your child." She gives the class a smirk, as though she expects to fail all of them within twenty-four hours.

"We have to carry a baby doll around? All day?"Chesney asks, looking slightly horrified.

Gale, for what must be the first time ever, wants to join in with Chesney's terror. Nothing is worth the embarrassment of dragging a baby doll around. He has things to do, places to go, stuff that will be inconvenient with a doll by his side.

Coin nods, clearly enjoying the terror in Cheney's face. "All day and all night for four days."

"But I have cheer after school."

"You should've thought about that before you had unprotected sex, Shumard."

Chesney starts to say something, maybe that she hadn't had sex, but the glare on Coin's face and the fact that there are videos disputing that claim silences her.

Snatching up several of the babies, Coin goes down the row, roughly depositing plastic dolls in front of every other seat.

"You'll be paired, and you'll switch back and forth every other day so that everyone gets equal time with your little bundles of misery."

When she gets to Gale, practically slamming the doll onto the desk, he cuts a look at Madge. She's eyeing the doll cautiously.

Coin narrows her eyes, shifting between the two of them. Her eyebrows arch and she settles her gaze on Madge. "Hnn…Undersee, you're with Hawthorne. It'll keep you from letting this Neanderthal pork you in the bed if his truck later in life."

Madge's face erupts in crimson. "What?"

Coin just grunts and moves on.

Gale scowls, but doesn't say anything. Of course the wicked witch of reproductive health would pick up on his crush. Just his luck.

He takes a breath and looks over at Madge. She's still pink in the cheeks and as happy as he is that he's getting a good excuse to spend time with her, he wishes Coin hadn't started the partnership off with a jab at his sex life.

And calling him a Neanderthal.

"I want to name him 'Star Lord'," Gale hears Thom say to Chesney, whom he is apparently paired with.

Chesney rolls her eyes. "She's a girl, you idiot."

"Okay, I want to name her 'Star Lord'."

"No, her name is Triniti, with an 'i' not a 'y' at the end."

Madge makes a face, and Gale swears he hears her mutter 'sounds like a stripper name' under her breath.

"Well I'm her father and I want 'Star Lord'," Thom tells her, crossing his arms.

Chesney huffs and raises her hand. "Ms. Coin! Thom wants to name our baby after a comic character."

"Yours is from a movie! Haven't you ever seen the 'Matrix'!"

Madge snorts, though she tries to cover it with an unconvincing cough, earning her a glare from Chesney.

"For the love of-Shumard! Lacewood! You aren't going to live together! You're just trading off and on with the baby since we don't have enough-"

"So we're divorced?" Chesney looks worried. "I'm not even legally an adult and I'm divorced?"

"You aren't re-"

"We probably had to divorce because you wanted to give our baby that stupid name," Chesney snaps at Thom. She's taking this far too seriously.

Thom rolls his eyes and groans to himself, "'Matrix'."

Chesney takes the baby and hits him across the back of the head with it. After that Coin spends nearly ten minutes explaining to the class why using your child to hit your partner is going to count as child abuse.

Picking up the doll she and Gale are going to share, Madge examines it. Her eyes widen when she checks the diaper. Apparently they're anatomically correct. Gale would expect nothing less from Coin.

She hands it to Gale. "Congratulations, it's a boy."

He takes the baby and bends its stiff legs so that it's sitting, before placing it on the table. "He looks nothing like me."

Madge snorts. "You want a paternity test? Now I know why we got divorced."

"Haha." He likes that she doesn't seem hostile to working with him, though it may just be the exhaustion painted on her face that's keeping her from being her normally cautious self around him.

Poking the baby in the cheek, Madge sighs. "Well, what should we name him?"

Gale shrugs. "Does it matter? You pick."

She stares at the little plastic face, glass eyes, and shrugs. "Looks a bit like Marlon Brando."

A disbelieving noise comes out of Gale's chest. "Like the 'Godfather'?"

Madge gives him a small look, as though she might say something about the fact that he finally has made a movie reference. When she chuckles, Gale can't help but be pleased with himself.

"Well, it's certainly not 'A Streetcar Named Desire' Marlon Brando," Madge says, laughing, probably at the smug expression on Gale's face. "I think he's our little Vito Coreleone."

"Great. Our kid is going to grow up to be a mafia kingpin."

Eyeing little Vito's worn looking, mismatched clothes, Madge grimaces. "Not dressed like this he isn't."

He's more likely to end up a professor at a clown college in the getup Coin has him in. A stained onsie with a pair of bright red pants and a mismatched pair of shoes. Gale actually feels sorry for the goofy thing.

Maybe Posy has something they can dress him in.

It's a doll, even if Posy insists on pink and frilly, it won't matter. No matter what Chesney, who is still arguing with Thom, may think. It doesn't know it's got boy bits.

Coin calls them to the front and they are issued a carrier while she activates the baby.

It lets off an ear splitting scream.

Madge jams the key in and turns it just like Coin had demonstrated and the baby quiets.

"Good reflexes, Undersee," Coin tells her. "The key stays in until the baby stops crying. You just unturn it after a minute to check. If it's still crying, you leave it in and keep turning."

She pulls a wad of wristbands and what appear to be hair ties from the upper drawer of her desk and holds her hand out. "Give me the key."

Hesitantly, Madge takes the key out. To Gale's great relief, the baby stays quiet.

"To ensure you don't pawn your babies off to 'sitters', I'm attaching your keys to these elastics and then around the bands to your wrists." She gives the class a dark look. "If any of you drains on society so much as think about cutting your bands off I will fail you so fast you'll pass out from the g-force."

Gale's band gets put on tight, right at his wrist, but Madge's chunky watch forces Coin to put hers higher.

When they get back to their seats Gale scoots his desk the few feet across the aisle to Madge's so they can talk without having to shout over everyone else. Especially Thom and Chesney, who are still arguing about their child's name.

"Uh, I can take him tonight, if you want," Gale tells her. That's nice isn't it? Offering to take the first shift?

Madge shrugs, then yawns, rubs her eyes. She almost looks like she's already spent a few nights playing mommy.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever works best for you, since you have siblings and I don't."

Tapping his pencil on the paper they're supposed to be working their schedule on, Gale sighs. "Okay, tomorrow I'll meet you before class and take him."

She nods, her eyes drifting closed, jerking open at the last second.

Gale frowns. He's never seen her this exhausted before, even during track season. "Are you okay?"

Madge's eyes pop open again and her eyebrows scrunch together. "What?" She perks up, gives her head a shake. "No, fine. I'm fine."

He doesn't think so, she looks like crap and keeps nodding off, but telling her that seems counterproductive. He's trying to get her to like him, not think he's a critical jerk.

"So, you keep him tomorrow and I'll get him in the morning and keep him overnight, then, uh-Madge, wake up," Gale prods her gently in the shoulder and she jerks awake.

Her eyes are wide. "I'm sorry." She shakes her head to wake herself. "I'm just-I didn't get much sleep last night."

Gale just barely stops himself from saying 'that's apparent'.

Picking up the paper, smudged with his chicken scratch writing, she looks it over and nods. "Looks good."

Copying the schedule down, Madge gives Gale a tight smile and stuffs it in her bag right as the bell rings. She's out the door, leaving nothing but her strawberry body spray trailing in her wake.

#######

When Gale gets to the end of the day, to his favorite class-gym-he's mulled over Madge's strange behavior for most of the day.

Much as he hates it, he has to do it. He has to talk to Mellark.

It isn't that Mellark isn't nice-he is. Annoyingly so at times. Gale just doesn't like the fact that he gets to spend so much time with Madge, even if she's confirmed they aren't dating.

When he spots Mellark, coming out of the wrestling room in his stupid unitard, he waits by the corner going to the bathroom to catch him.

Mellark comes around the corner frowning as he tugs at the straps over his shoulder. He stops when he spots Gale.

"I have a question for you?"

It takes a second, but Mellark's expression brightens. "Yes, even if you can pee without touching it, you still have to wash your hands."

He brushes past Gale, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he does. "Good talk, bud."

Rolling his eyes, Gale follows him into the bathroom. "I want to know what's wrong with Madge."

Mellark has his back to him, and Gale can practically hear him roll his eyes. "You can't wait a few minutes? If you hadn't noticed, I'm a little busy."

Mouth clamping shut, Gale waits for Mellark to finish, slowly wash his hands, then check his stupid unitard, then his hair…

"Don't they expect you back in practice?"

"Do you think they're really going to ask questions?"

"Okay…" Gale crosses his arms. "Are you going to tell me what's going on with Madge?"

"Why should I?" Mellark widens his stance, crosses his arms. "Are you going to own up to having the most obvious crush in the universe, finally, or do you have some lame excuse for asking now?"

Gale glares at him. His crush is not obvious. Mellark is an asshole.

"We're partners for the baby thing in health," Gale tells him with a very audible huff. "I don't want her getting us a fail because she's too exhausted to do her part."

That's plausible.

"Lame excuse it is then," Mellark sighs, running his hand over his face. He rubs his face, thinking his response over for a minute or two, then lets out a long breath.

"Alright, okay, if I tell you this you have to swear, and I mean swear on your most prized possession or your mother or, if you like them, your siblings, not to say anything about this." He stares Gale down, his expression unusually somber, waiting for his response.

When Gale finally nods, Mellark focuses his eyes on the dirty cement floor and hooks his thumbs around the straps of his unitard.

"It's her mom. She's-She has a problem. Madge and Haymitch, her neighbor, had to take her to the hospital last night," he finally tells Gale.

"What kind of problem?" Gale has heard rumors that Madge's mother got headaches, debilitating ones even, but he's never heard of headaches putting someone in the hospital.

"Headaches." Mellark shrugs. "She was in some kind of accident when she was younger and started getting them. Her sister died around the same time. It-They're pretty rough. It's tough on Madge."

A knot forms in Gale's stomach.

Madge's tired eyes and zoned out demeanor make more sense now. There's no way she can focus on class, let alone taking care of some plastic noise box, while her mother is in the hospital.

"So she's going to be sitting up in some hospital room with that stupid baby-"

"Baby? Oh, that. No, her father and Haymitch should have her sent off to a clinic out of state by now." His eyebrows knit together. "Not that that'll be much better, but at least Madge will be able to focus on taking care of herself instead of her mom."

Gale nods.

Mellark starts to walk off, but stops at the door.

"Just for your personal knowledge, Madge hates that body spray most of the guys, yourself included, use." He makes a face as he sniffs the air. "I'd go to the mall, the shop by the south entrance. They have nice cologne, and Madge really likes it."

He waves his hand vaguely at Gale's face. "And shave man, if you ever get the balls to ask her out, put a little effort into it."

With that he's gone, leaving Gale standing in the middle of the smelly bathroom.

#######

Madge isn't at school the next day. Not before first hour for their meet up to pass off little Vito, and not after.

Gale catches Mellark at his locker.

"Don't worry," he tells Gale as he stuffs his book and folder into the locker. "She needed to catch up on sleep. She told me to tell you that she'll meet you at lunch to pass off 'Vito'."

It isn't very comforting, but at least he has confirmation that she isn't dead in her house somewhere.

At lunch he sits up on the top of the benches watching over the parking lot, jumping down when he spots Madge's banged up car.

She looks more rested, despite having kept 'Vito' for several extra hours.

"Don't worry, I brought extra diapers and his favorite blankey," Madge says brightly, jokingly, handing the carrier over to Gale.

Despite her cheerfulness, she still has dark circles under her eyes, even if they're not as pronounced as they'd been the day before. She isn't yawning though, so he hopes that's a positive sign.

Gale wants to ask about her mother, if she's doing better and how Madge is doing, but since he isn't supposed to know anything about her family troubles, he keeps his mouth shut and just eyes the vacantly staring baby.

"Such a livewire."

Madge snorts, and Gale lets a little smile creep up his lips at the sound. It's a little silly, but he likes it.

"Was he up all night?" Gale asks while Madge pulls the ratty looking diaper bag from the back of her car.

She frowns. "No. I didn't hear him cry once."

Gale gives her a small look, hoping she hadn't slept through the baby's crying and failing herself. He's seconds from asking her if she slept through the crying when he notices her wristband is missing.

He snatches her hand up. "What happened to your band?"

She's going to fail the class; Coin had been very specific about the bands.

Frantically Gale wracks his brain for a way to sneak a new band for Madge from Coin's desk. They'll have to talk the janitor into helping them, it's the only option.

As he's mentally counting up all the loose change in his truck, probably less than ten dollars, hardly a good amount for a bribe, Madge uncurls his fingers from her hand and gives him a weak look.

"She put mine a little high," she explains quietly. "I just wiggled out of it."

Madge picks the baby up out of the carrier and wraps the band around its hand, then, with a triumphant smile, puts the key in the back just as she'd done the day before. It stays turned.

"I figured it out last night, when it was crying for an hour straight and my hand got tired of holding the key," she gives him a sheepish look from under her bangs, chewing her lip.

Gale stares at her for a minute, slowly processing what she's said.

"That-You cheated!" He looks between the baby and her. "That's cheating!"

"She put the band on too loose. She said no cutting it, nothing about slipping it off. And it's only cheating if I pawned the baby off, and I didn't. I just saved myself from carpal tunnel."

He continues to stare at her, uncertain if he's horrified or impressed with her warping of the rules.

She sets the baby back in the carrier and holds the key out to him. "If you want to rat me out that's fine, but I just needed to rest and I couldn't do that holding the key in the back of this goofy doll."

Taking the key, Gale considers it for a few minutes.

He never would've pegged Madge for someone who would bend the rules like she has, but he likes it. She isn't as much a goody-goody as he'd always thought. She's real, and that makes her a little less intimidating.

Grunting, Gale stuffs her key in his pocket and picks up the carrier. As he starts to walk away, Madge stops him

"So…are you telling Coin?" There's an edge of anxiety in her voice, making it a little higher than usual.

He wishes she knew that not only did he think her little stunt was a life saver, he had an English paper to write and couldn't spend an hour holding a key in little Vito's back, but he also couldn't turn her in. Not to Coin, not to anyone.

"Uh-uh," he grunts.

#######

"God, Gale," Rory eyes the baby, now dressed in one of Posy's doll's green and yellow onsies. "Did you do it with a mannequin?"

Gale slaps him on the back of the head.

"What did Gale do with a mam-e-kim?" Posy asks as she spoon feeds the baby invisible food.

"Nothing, sweetie," Gale hears his mother tell her. "Right Rory?"

The tone of her voice lets the whole room know there's only one acceptable answer.

Rory quickly nods.

Picking the baby up, Gale grabs the battered family laptop and heads outside. "I need quiet so I can finish this stupid paper."

He's no sooner settled down in the lumpy cushion of the basket chair, when the baby starts wailing.

Pulling Madge's key from his pocket, he quickly quiets the noise before pulling the elastic and twisting the band around the chubby little hand, just as Madge had done earlier. When he lets go, the baby stays silent.

For nearly an hour he types away, stretching sentences and using the thesaurus to find the longest words he can, when his mother comes out.

"How's fatherhood treating you?"

Belatedly, Gale remembers the key, now dangling from the baby's hand. His mother gently unwinds it, plops it in her palm, and examines it.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't something they taught you in class?"

Gale grimaces and runs his hands through his hair, tugging it up on end. "Well…"

She covers her eyes. "Gale…"

He tries to come up with a lie, but his mother has the ability to steal his thoughts from him with her weary looks. Even as he formulates a plausible explanation, the words die with her sigh of exasperation.

Putting the laptop on the ground in front of him, Gale puts his elbows to his knees and covers his face in his hands.

"If I tell you something, you can't tell anyone else…"

#######

"That poor girl," his mother sighs as Gale finishes telling her about Madge's mother and her hospital stay.

He'd embellished a little, milked it by exaggerating how tired Madge had appeared and he may have given her the impression Madge had sobbed the entire story on his shoulder at lunch. Whatever it took to protect Madge and keep his mother quiet. Her heart is too soft, she wouldn't turn a girl that's had such a rough time over to someone as cold and heartless as Coin.

"You should have her out for dinner," his mother says, picking up the still quiet baby and setting it on her lap. "She could probably do with a good meal."

While Gale doesn't doubt that, he does doubt that Madge would accept his invitation to come to his house for dinner. He's ninety percent certain she thinks he lives on roadkill.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he shakes his head. "I don't want her to know I told you. It would embarrass her. She's a little shy."

His mother nods, straightening the baby's onsie and sighing.

They sit on the back porch for several more minutes before his mother finally gets up and sets the baby down. "I need to get Posy and Vick to bed."

Gale starts to ask about Rory, but he's probably passed out already. The boy goes down with the sun.

Just as she opens the door to go in, she looks back. "What did you say her name was?"

Picking up his computer, Gale grunts. "Don't worry. You don't know her."

She doesn't seem to like that answer, but when Gale starts tapping away, seemingly having forgotten her question already, she sighs loudly and disappears into the house.

#######

The next few days go smoothly, passing the baby back and forth during class, along with the lifesaving key, and watching Thom and Chesney's nonexistent relationship deteriorate.

By the fourth day Gale isn't sure which is better, the time Madge spends talking to him during class, discussing 'diaper budgets' and filling out study guides for child development, or listening to the increasingly intense debates between the idiots in front of them.

"I'm so glad this project is over," Chesney tells Thom on the last day.

"Not gladder than me," Thom snaps back.

"'Gladder' isn't a word you dum-dum."

Madge covers her ears, and Gale is pretty sure neither Thom nor Chesney will be as happy as everyone that's had to watch their fake family fall apart.

"That's it!" Coin roars, marching down the aisle and snatching little 'Triniti Star Lord Lacewood-Shumard' from Chesney's hands. "Detention! Both of you!"

She takes the baby with her as she leaves the room, Gale supposes so she can check the device inside it and determine whether Chesney and Thom were as bad a pair of parents as they appeared to be.

Looking over, Madge is bright eyed and laughing, her wristband securely back where Coin had placed it. She has baby Vito sitting in her lap, now wearing Posy's donated onsie, and a pair of mended socks from Gale's mother.

"We should get bonus points just for making him presentable," Madge had joked the first time she'd seen their 'child's' new look.

Gale had simply grunted his agreement.

When Coin stomps back in the room and snatches up little Vito, Gale feels a little sad to see him go. He'd been annoying, his cry was nothing like a real baby's-though Gale is pretty sure the shrieking had made Rory nearly wet the bed-but he'd been the excuse Gale had needed to learn a little more about Madge.

Her life isn't as perfect as it seems and she isn't as much a stickler for the rules as he's always thought, and while his new found knowledge is upsetting, its also comforting. Madge isn't as far removed from him as he'd thought, he might have a chance with her, and that bit of 'personal knowledge' is worth the inconvenience and embarrassment of dragging a carrier with a doll in it.


	20. Watching me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.

Halloween, Sophomore Year

Gale isn't sure how he got roped into taking his siblings trick or treating. Rory is technically old enough now, he's just not mature enough. He'd let Vick and Posy run into the street while he oogled the high school girls he has no chance with, Gale is certain of it, and apparently so were his parents.

"You know your father or I would take them, Gale," his mother told him apologetically. It wasn't their fault. His mother had to hand out candy at the dry cleaner and his father was part of the District's street crew for the night to keep the traffic diverted for the kids.

Still, Gale wishes he weren't the go-to helper for his youngest two siblings while Rory runs around like an obnoxious juvenile delinquent.

"Gale," Posy puts her hands on her hips and eyes him critically, "where is your costume?"

He groans. "I'm not dressing up, Posy."

It's bad enough he's having to wander the streets with one of Tinkerbell's little friends and Jack Sparrow's mini-me instead of hanging out with his friends at Thom's Halloween party in his granddad's barn, but to have to dress up as Prince Charming or a knight in shining armor would just be insult on top of injury.

"But Gale," she flops around, "you hafta. It's Halloween!"

So, instead of going as a surly teenage boy roped into taking his little brother and sister on a walk through of their small town's main street for safe candy he's dressed in his dad's brown robe carrying Rory's blue plastic lightsaber.

"Which Jedi are you?" Vick asks.

Gale frowns. "Does it matter?"

Vick rolls his eyes and mutters that 'yeah it does', but doesn't press the matter further.

Their first stop it the dry cleaners where their mother gives them a special stash of good candy, not the orange and black gummy stuff the cheap store owner used most of the candy stipend on, before taking off down the street.

It's crowded, there are hundreds of kids, strollers and wagons, crying and screaming all along the main street of town. Gale counts at least ten Elsas, seven Annas, and at least half a dozen Olafs before they make it to the bakery.

Mr. Mellark is behind the counter, smiling cheerfully as his two youngest sons sit at the doorway and hand out small, hand wrapped cookies to the children. Well, Peeta is handing out candy, Rhys is leaned against a window, flirting with Chesney and Chenille Shumard.

"Well if it isn't Rosetta," Mellark grins, fishing out a cookie wrapped in a horribly pink paper baggy and holding it out to Posy. She beams at him.

"You know who Rosetta is?" She asks breathlessly, apparently awed with his knowledge of fairies.

Mellark nods solemnly. "Of course. Who doesn't?"

Gale doesn't that's who. He's watched hours, days even, of Tinkerbell and he still can't tell which fairy is which. How does Mellark know?

When Posy bounces off to the next doorway, the candy shop, and Rory snatches up his yellow wrapped cookie, Gale shoots Mellark a suspicious look. "How the hell do you know that?"

Mellark's cheeks actually turn a faint pink. "Our neighbor's daughter is obsessed with them and when I babysit her we watch it."

With a grunt Gale nods, even though he thinks Mellark should learn to block out that kind of thing. He's an embarrassment to men everywhere.

Hitching up his bathrobe a bit, Gale rolls his eyes and heads into the candy shop, expecting old Herschel to be standing just inside the doorway, dressed as a cowboy and handing out his very best chocolates.

Instead, what he gets is Madge, dressed what he can only describe as a bar wench. How she got the costume past her grandfather's watchful eye, Gale isn't sure, but he's happy she did.

The top bares her shoulders, gives Gale an impressive view of her chest, and while the skirt is a bit longer than he would like, he does enjoy imagining what she's hiding under it.

She's talking to Posy, complimenting her on her fairy costume, though she apparently has no knowledge of Tinkerbell's group of friends.

"I'm Rosetta because she's pink and I like pink," Posy explains while Madge crouches down in front of her.

Gale is in the middle of appreciating the view when he notices Vick's mouth hanging open just slightly, his eyes glazed and trained on the exact same stretch of flesh as Gale's.

Taking the lightsaber, Gale thwaps his brother on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Vick turns and glares, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"

"Eyes up," Gale grunts.

"Like yours were," Vick mutters, his eyes flickering just barely down to Madge again before he focuses on her smiling blue eyes.

"And Jack Sparrow," Madge smiles brightly. "We could make quite the pair, huh?"

Vick's lips stretch up into a lazy grin as he nods.

Madge tilts her head from her spot next to Posy, squinting up at Gale. Her lips form a little 'o' as she glances down at her shirt, apparently realizing the view she's giving the two boys.

She stands, tugging the front of her shirt up several inches, much to both Gale and Vick's dismay, before turning and snatching up her bag of candy.

Her cheeks are a soft pink that creeps down her neck, to her chest and into her shirt as she scoops up a handful of her grandfather's best chocolate candies from the bag and drops them into Posy's pillowcase sack before giving her a dazzling smile and turning to Vick.

"And some for the dashing Captain," she drops a generous handful into Vick's pillowcase.

Vick's grin widens and Gale has to stop himself from smacking him on the back of the head again.

Posy skips to the door and Vick slowly edges toward her, bumping into a display of lollipops and deepening in color before giving a shy wave and ducking out the door.

Madge's eyes scan the room, no doubt looking for another group of trick or treaters to save her from the less than chivalrous bathrobe Jedi in front of her, but finding none, she holds out her bag to him. "Candy?"

Glancing down, trying and failing not to look at her cleavage, Gale reaches into the bag and takes a large handful of chocolates and shoves them into his pockets. "Thanks."

She nods, then looks relieved as a group of kids wander in and Gale slowly walks out around them.

He takes one last lingering look through the window, focusing his eyes on Madge's glittering eyes and fading blush, before following after Posy into the pharmacy.

Vick grabs him by the sleeve and grins dopishly up at him. "Did you see-"

"No," Gale cuts him off.

"See what?" Posy asks, holding her wand aloft and letting her pillowcase drag along the ground as she comes back to her brothers. The pharmacy apparently hadn't had very good candy.

"Madge's-"

"Dress," Gale answers quickly. "Her dress was pretty."

Posy's eyebrows scrunch together as she considers what Gale has said. She looks unconvinced, but finally nods. "It was pretty, but it was too low. You could see her boobies."

"That's what was great about it," Vick says, just low enough that Posy, thankfully, doesn't hear, but Gale shoots him a glare anyway.

"Her mommy and daddy should buy her more clothes for her costume," Posy adds thoughtfully.

Hopefully not, Gale thinks, mentally slapping himself.

Judging by Vick's disgusted look, he apparently is thinking the same thing.

As Posy bounces off, happily heading toward the next candy stop, Vick knocks Gale in the arm, his little grin back on his lips. "Rory is gonna be so mad he missed that."

Rolling his eyes, Gale rubs his face roughly with his hand. "We are not telling Rory."

They are never speaking of Madge and her amazing cleavage ever again.

"But he'll be so made he missed it," Vick whines. He juts his lower lip out. "Please?"

While watching Rory agonize over missing such a golden opportunity would be satisfying, he's a terror on a good day, Gale doesn't want to give his annoying brother another weapon to use against him in the future. He can only imagine Rory bringing up Gale and Vick staring down Madge's shirt at dinner and then having to explain it to not only Posy, but also his mother and father. It would be uncomfortable to say the least.

"Wouldn't it be more fun to have it as a secret?" Gale tries desperately to contain the situation.

While they walk down the sidewalk, Posy skipping, her pillowcase bouncing on the cracked concrete as she does, Vick considers Gale's idea.

"I guess…" he finally sighs. "But I make no guarantees if he annoys me."

Gale presses his fingers to his eyes and sighs. "Fair enough."

Rory will know in a week, but it's one week less that he'll have to listen to him making irritating comments. Maybe he'll just be sullen that he missed the view. Unlikely, but it's always a possibility.

More than likely he'll just want a detailed description of it, and Gale doesn't feel like sharing. He may not be a gentleman, but he isn't one to peep and tell, especially not to his pervy little brother.

Posy comes bounding back, throwing her arms open to Gale. "I'm cold. Carry me."

The sun is going down, dropping the temperature a few degrees, so Gale picks her up and wraps her in the bathrobe. "Home we go then."

As they make their way to the truck Gale glances at the candy shop.

Madge is still in it, happily passing candy to the stragglers as they quickly filter in and out. She's put an apron on, eliminating anymore embarrassing mishaps, and Gale tightens his hold on Posy. He wonders if Madge brought a coat to wear on her way home, if she rode with her granddad or drove herself…

If Posy had held out maybe another hour or so he might've been able to offer Madge a ride or at least the use of his dad's bathrobe. Imagining her wearing anything that's been on his body makes the cold a little more tolerable.

Securing Posy in the truck, Gale shifts it into drive and takes the long way home, behind the candy shop, on the off chance Madge might be leaving. She isn't, so he sighs and listens to Posy and Vick bartering over their candies.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some of the little chocolates.

"Here," he hands them to Vick. "Split with Posy."

Next year he'll put a little more effort into his costume. Something that shows off his chest a little bit. Maybe Tarzan. Gale in a loincloth, that would make Madge blush for sure.

The thought of her blush blossoming across her chest and into places unseen makes his determination that much stronger. It would definitely be worth missing a barn party for, he's certain of it.


	21. Lotta love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. It's all hers.

May, Sophomore Year

"Gale, sweetie?"

Looking up from his physics homework, determining the terminal velocity of a car that for some reason is once again flying off a cliff at 88 miles per hour, Gale frowns. "Yeah?"

His mother wipes her soapy hands off on her apron and smiles. She's up to something.

"I was wondering if you and Madge had any plans this weekend," she says as she takes the seat across from him.

He already knows what she's going to ask before the question is even out of her mouth.

"Because I was thinking maybe she might want to come to dinner on Sunday, you know, so your dad and I can meet her finally."

Gale groans and lets his head flop down onto his half finished homework.

Normally it was the girl's parents that wanted to meet the little bastard that was taking their daughter out, but seeing as Madge's parents are perpetually out of town, so far at least, his mom and dad are apparently going to stand in and mortify their own son. It's the least they can do.

Actually, his parents wouldn't be so bad, it's his brothers and their surging hormones and Posy and her missing verbal filter that he's wary of. If there's a sure fire way to scare Madge off it's to expose her to a couple of prepubescent creeps and an unintentionally inappropriate kindergartener.

"If you're worried about the boys-"

"What else would I be worried about?" He mutters, turning his head to look at her. "I like her, I don't want to freak her out because Rory and Vick can't keep their eyes off her chest."

"Your dad and I will have a talk to them," she assures him. Her forehead scrunches up and her eyes widen in sincerity. "Sweetie, I know you like her a lot and that's why I want to meet her. Especially if her parents aren't around much."

Someone needs to look out for her other than her granddad and her creepy neighbor, and Gale supposes it being his parents isn't the worst thing.

Sighing, he weakly smiles. "Fine, I'll see if she wants to."

He'll have to face it eventually.

Brightening, his mother gets up and walks around the table and gives him a dry little kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." She gives him a small look. "And you need to shave."

He shoots her a narrow little look. She never tells his dad to shave, and he's ten times scruffier than Gale. Besides if it doesn't bother Madge he doesn't see a problem with it.

#######

The next day, between second and third hour, Gale meets Madge at her locker, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before he even says hello. He's enjoying this whole dating thing.

She turns a bright pink and quickly busies herself with switching out her books and folders, battling down a smile at his attention. It both embarrasses her and pleases her and Gale likes the blush it always brings.

"So, uh, my mom was wanting to know if you want to come out to dinner Sunday?" He asks before he gets too distracted with the cut of her blouse.

Her eyes widen and she glances over at him. "Dinner? With your parents?"

"And the kids," he adds, though that's not really a bonus. More of a warning.

A moment of panic hits him. Maybe it's too early for her to meet his parents, he doesn't actually know. He's never had a girl he even wanted to meet them, let along his mother really wanted to know anything about. It's probably too early.

"She just wanted to meet you," he mutters lamely.

Madge takes a deep breath, looking terrified, and nods. "Yeah, I mean, dinner would be great." She grimaces. "Will you pick me up?"

Gale chuckles. If her getting out to his house is the worst thing she thinks she has to worry about she's in for a rude awakening.

"Yeah, I'll pick you up. We usually eat around seven so she and dad can wrestle Vick and Posy into bed for school the next day, so maybe I can get you around six-thirty?"

She nods, looking pale but pleased, then pops up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you at lunch?"

He nods as she starts to back away, then she frowns and rubs her chin.

"Gale, you need to shave."

#######

He pulls up to her house at exactly six-thirty on Sunday afternoon, shifts his truck into park and runs up to the door.

She answers it looking out of breath and terrified. "Do I look alright?"

Spinning in place, he takes in the dress. It has a high neckline, which while disappointing to him, is probably for the best considering just who they're having dinner with. Vick and Rory have no self-control and even with his very stern talk with them the night before, and just before he left, he doubts they'll be the gentlemen his mother thinks they can be.

"Don't look down her dress," Vick had repeated, almost like a mantra, after Gale had given him and Rory his millionth warning before leaving to pick Madge up.

"What if-"

"No, Rory, no 'what if's'. Keep your eyes up," Gale had growled. "You upset her and I'll smother you in your sleep."

Rory rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Mom and dad have already threatened me with being 'grounded until I'm eligible for social security' so you can give it a rest. "

While Gale appreciated his parents' warning to Rory, it didn't sound like it had really struck quite the chord of fear into him they'd hoped. So before he'd left Gale had pulled out a picture of Rory, from a few years earlier, in his superman undies and a cape made from their mother's favorite nightgown, and held it high above his head. It was the single most embarrassing picture he had of his little brother and he'd use it as the ace up his sleeve for as long as he could.

"You embarrass me or Madge and I give this picture to Katniss," he'd told him. "She'll give it to his sister, and do you know who Prim is friends with?"

Charissa Shumard, that's who. Rory's crush.

Rory had nodded, a look of horrified understanding on his face. Gale wasn't playing around here, he meant business.

Still, Madge's dress, high neck line and knee brushing bottom hem, is probably a blessing. Rory's memory isn't that great.

Madge gives him a wide, worried look.

In his opinion, she always looks 'alright', better actually. Really, she could wear one of the hideous little flour sack dresses his mother makes Posy's dolls and still be gorgeous, but his telling her that doesn't seem to change the fact that she always thinks she's one bad combo away from being named 'worst dressed' in the yearbook.

Instead, he grabs her around the waist and pulls her into a deep kiss, letting his hands wander down her back and palm the fabric of the dress. She pushes his hands down and pulls back.

"You'll wrinkle it," she warns, backing up to the stairs. Dashing back up, she yells, "I just need to finish my hair."

He isn't really sure what she needs to do to her hair, it looks fine to him, but he follows her up the steps and into her room.

The floor is littered with dresses and skirts, shoes and flip-flops, almost making it look like her closet had regurgitated her entire wardrobe onto the floor and across the bed.

He's about to ask her what the hell happened, but then his eyes land on a pile of colorful bras and he finds he doesn't really care much.

Just as his mind is working through which outfits she'd worn with which bra, Madge grabs his hand and starts to tug him out of the room.

"Sorry about the mess. I just couldn't figure out what I wanted to wear."

Much as he'd like to stay and continue his mental exercise, he'd promised his mother he'd be back by seven. Regretfully, he gives the bras one last wistful look before Madge drags him from the room.

#######

When they pull up outside Gale's house, Madge feels the knot in her stomach tighten.

She isn't ready to meet his family, but it's a little too late to feign an illness, even if she's certain that given a minute or two she could very easily lose her lunch of gummy bears and chocolate covered almonds all over Gale's front dash.

It's going to be a disaster, she just knows it.

First, she hadn't been able to find an outfit, and Peeta had been absolutely no help.

"I don't know, Madge," he'd muttered after the ninth or tenth outfit. "The blue one?"

"Which blue one?" She'd tried on three.

"Uh, the…first one?"

She'd sent him home after that, mostly because he'd suggested she wear her pirate outfit from Halloween. "At least the boys will like you."

Shifting in her seat and fanning herself, she looks up at Gale.

"Are there any subjects I need to avoid?"

His eyebrows rise. "What?"

"You know," she explains, gesturing pointlessly with her hands, "things I shouldn't talk about. Religion, politics, that kind of thing."

He doesn't seem to understand though, just stares at her in confusion.

It really isn't fair, out of her family he's only had to meet her Poppa, who is sweet and can talk about anything, and Mr. Abernathy, who doesn't really seem to want to talk to Gale at all unless it's to grumble warnings at him. Gale's gotten the easy meetings so far.

"I guess just avoid religion and politics then," he finally says with a shrug.

Nodding, even though he hadn't really helped her, Madge lets him help her out of the truck and adjusts the bottom of her dress again.

They walk up the pathway, a few stepping stones so pounded down they're almost swallowed up by the dirt and sparse grass around them, to the ancient screen door, and into the house.

The kitchen, which is apparently where the back door opens to, is uncomfortably warm. It smells of roast and rolls, melting butter and the heat of a cooking meal that Madge has rarely had the opportunity to enjoy in her life.

Standing at the stove, just barely tall enough to see over the top of the enormous pot he's working in, is Gale's youngest brother. She remembers him, just barely, from many trips to the sweet shop. He beams at the pair when they come in.

"Madge!" He waves a potato masher, covered in lumpy spuds, at her, grinning.

Gale makes a little noise, gestures for his brother to put the masher down because he's flinging potatoes on the floor, then gives Madge a half smile.

"This is Vick," he introduces his enthusiastic brother to her.

Giving him a little smile, Madge walks over and peeks in the pot, at the half unmashed potatoes.

"I'm in charge of mashing," he explains. "Usually Gale is, but mom said I need to help 'cause he's going to be entertaining you."

If the look on Vick's face is anything to go by, he clearly thinks that isn't much of a reason for Gale to get out of his kitchen duties, but since no one is asking him he'll just do it.

"Oh," is all Madge can manage to say to that.

Gale takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Let's go to the living room."

Before they're able to make their escape from the heat of the kitchen though, a woman, tall in a faded dress and with her dark hair pulled back from her face, comes in, yelling over her shoulder at someone.

"Well, you shouldn't've been agitating him, Rory. You brought this on yourself."

She stops several steps in and her stern expression brightens.

"You must be Madge!" She's across the room and pulling Madge into a warm embrace before she even knows what's happening. Pulling back, the woman beams at her. "I'm Gale's mom, Hazelle."

Nodding dumbly, Madge gives her a half smile, unsure what to say to a practical stranger that's just hugged her.

"Mom, let her breath," Gale mumbles, tugging Madge back by looping his finger around the thin belt at Madge's waist.

Mrs. Hawthorne's smile doesn't falter; she just waves Gale off before taking Madge's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, dear, I'm just thrilled Gale finally brought you out to meet us. I feel like I've been hearing about you forever."

Madge's stomach swoops a little at the thought that Gale had mentioned her to his family, even though he'd told her as much. It's still a little embarrassing. She's certain he's made her sound much more impressive than she really is and disappointing them is a very real possibility.

"Mom…" Gale's face is a little darker and he's giving his mother a very distinctly 'please stop talking' look, but his mother just pats his shoulder.

"I hope you like roast," his mother carries on, ignoring Gale's silent pleas.

"Yeah," Madge manages to sputter out. "I can help, if you want."

Though Madge sincerely hopes she doesn't. She's worried enough about making a fool out of herself eating, which isn't something she thinks she can mess up, but she isn't certain. Trying to help Mrs. Hawthorne and Vick in the kitchen and showing just how dependent she is on the directions on the backs of the boxes most of her meals come in would just be too humiliating for words. Gale's mother would probably be trying to convince him to cut his loses early by breaking up with Madge when she realized just how completely incompetent Madge is in the kitchen.

Belatedly, Madge thinks she should've brought some candy from her Poppa's shop, just to prove that even if she can't cook anything nutritional, she can at least be useful for treats.

With a wave of her hand Mrs. Hawthorne tells Madge and Gale to go to the living room.

"You're a guest. Just relax."

Taking her hand, Gale leads Madge into a small living area. It's a bit cramped, dark despite the pair of floor lamps in the corners providing dim light, but cozy.

Sitting on the floor in front of the television, crayons scattered around her and eyes focused on the bright display just above her, is Gale's little sister.

She's oblivious to Gale and Madge coming into the living room, completely absorbed in the program, so Gale tells Madge to take a seat while he sneaks up behind Posy.

He picks her up and sets her back from the tv several feet. "Don't sit so close, Pose."

Absently she nods, as Gale steps away, over the coffee table, and flops onto the couch next to Madge. He's just put his arm around Madge's shoulder and closed the fractional space between them when a commercial comes on and Posy reenters the world.

"Gale!" She squeals, standing up and running around the table to fling herself at him. It takes her a minute of struggling with him, fighting to get on his lap, to even notice Madge right beside him.

"Are you Gale's girlfriend?" She asks, eyes narrowed as she clings to Gale tightly, her cheek to his shoulder and her head tucked under his scruffy chin as she observes Madge.

Madge nods.

Posy frowns. "So you kiss and stuff?"

Gale pokes her in the side. "Posy…"

She sits up and puts her hands to her hips. "What? Do you?"

Before Madge can answer though, Posy sticks out her tongue in disgust.

"That's icky," she tells them, scrambling from Gale's lap and back to her coloring on the ground.

Gale rolls his eyes, looking a bit relieve, though whether because Posy has dropped her questioning or because she still thinks kissing is icky, Madge isn't sure.

A second later Posy is back, shoving a coloring book into Madge's lap.

"You can color with me," she tells Madge, forcing a crayon into her hand. "Use blue, it's Gale's favorite."

Exchanging a look with Gale, a little smirk, Madge scoots to the edge of the couch and puts the book on the coffee table and carefully begins coloring the generic looking little flower on the page Posy has apparently assigned her.

After finishing several pages, Madge hears the back door open in the kitchen and a deep voice rumbling warmly. A few minutes later a man Madge recognizes from when her car had broken down comes into the living room, covered in dirt and oil, smiling into the living room.

"Daddy!" Posy jumps up and races to him, throwing her arms up as she lunges at him. He catches her and swings her up, laughing as she makes a delighted noise.

With Posy on his hip, Mr. Hawthorne turns his attention to Madge and Gale.

"Good to see you again, little lady."

Madge can't help but grin back and hope her face isn't flushing. Gale's dad is an older, still painfully handsome, version of Gale and for some reason that embarrasses her. "Good to see you too, Mr. Hawthorne."

He makes a face. "Call me Asher, Madge."

Setting Posy down he excuses himself to go get cleaned up for dinner. Apparently he'd been out with his dad, Gale's grandfather, fixing a tractor.

"Normally Gale helps, but we gave him the day off," he explains to Madge as he rubs at a streak of grease on his face.

"I thought you were going to take Rory with you today?" Gale asks, a bit accusingly.

His dad chuckles. "Have you tried to pry him out of bed in the morning on the weekend? I gave up."

With that he disappears to the back of the house, to where presumably the bedrooms are, leaving Madge and Posy to their coloring and Gale to watching.

#######

Gale's mother calls them to dinner less than ten minutes later.

The table is heavy with food. Roast, rolls, vegetables, and Vick's mashed potatoes, all set out carefully across the small table in the dining room.

Gale's other brother, Rory, who Gale has warned Madge about ad nauseam, is looking sullen as he finishes setting out plates and utensils before slouching into a chair beside his dad.

Dinner goes well enough. Madge manages not to accidentally spill food down her front or knock anything over, though she nearly panics when she thinks she's smeared gravy on Mrs. Hawthorne's tablecloth.

"That's been there," Gale tells, his hot breath on her ear as he whispers when she shoots him a panic stricken look. "Posy used to wipe her hands on it all the time."

They talk about classes, Madge's job at her Poppa's shop, her car, fishing…

"Oh, I've never been fishing," she tells them when Mr. Hawthorne mentions a trip he and the kids are planning to take in a few weeks, out to a pond in the middle of his own dad's land.

"You should come," Vick says instantly. "Fishing is fun."

"Yeah," Posy agrees with a serious nod. "You get to poke the hook in the little fishies and worms and then daddy cooks for us and we make s'mores and I found a turtle once…"

She rambles on, mostly to herself, as Madge tries not to think about poking little fishies with a hook.

"You should come," Rory, who'd been quiet up until that point, pipes up. He grins. "It'll be fun."

Gale and his dad both give Rory suspicious glances, but don't say anything.

"If your parents don't mind, you really should come, Madge," Mr. Hawthorne finally says. "Even if you don't want to fish, you and Hazelle can sit on the banks. We're usually done by noon."

"Oh, I'll ask." Though really, she doesn't have to. Her father will say yes when she talks to him on the phone tonight and her mother thinks Madge is old enough to make her own decisions, which Madge is inclined to agree with. She's been taking care of herself, mostly alone, for years now. If she should ask anyone it would be Poppa, and he's never told her no. If she wants an excuse she'll have to talk to Mr. Abernathy. 'No' is his favorite word when it comes to Gale, though Madge has no obligation to listen to him.

"Please, Madge?" Posy gives her a pathetic little pout and Madge knows she's done for.

Fishing she shall go, whether she really wants to or not.

When they finish dinner, despite Mrs. Hawthorne's protests, Madge and Gale help clean up the kitchen, drying dishes and putting away the leftovers before Madge realizes how late it's gotten.

"I'm sorry, Gale," she tells him once they've said their goodbyes and are out the backdoor. She hates him driving home in the dark.

He shrugs, gives her a smile. "It's fine."

Opening the driver's side door he helps her in before sliding in beside her and starting the truck up.

"See?" He says, almost more to himself than to her. "That wasn't so bad."

Madge nods. It had been downright pleasant.

She was full and tired and had plans for a fish fry to look forward to, not a bad end to her weekend at all.

With a grin, Gale leans over and presses a kiss to her lips, dessert still clinging to his tongue.

Even though they're still in his driveway, only a few yards from his backdoor, Madge leans into him, deepening it.

Madge isn't quite sure how they end up with her back pressed into the rough material of the bench seat of Gale's truck, the buckle for the middle seatbelt lodged into her hip and Gale's hands half-way up her thighs. All she knows is that the moment she hears a soft 'tap, tap, tap' on his door window is that Gale's dad has probably gotten more details about Madge from a few seconds of watching her and his son groping one another than he had through all of dinner.

"Mr. Hawthorne!" Madge almost screams, pushing Gale back so roughly he jerks up and hits his head on the top of the inside of the cab and curses.

It takes him a second, but after rubbing his head, his eyes widen and he turns sheepishly to the window, his color darker than Madge has ever seen it.

"Oh, shit," he swears as his dad gestures for him to roll down the window.

His expression is unreadable, though Madge suspects it's furious. His mouth is a flat line and his eyebrows are high on his head.

"Hi, dad," Gale mutters as the window creeps down.

"You know you're still in the driveway, right?" His dad asks, expression unchanging.

Gale nods.

His dad sighs and reaches across Gale to Madge, a paper in his hand. "Posy wanted me to give this to you." He gives Gale a stern glare. "She wanted to bring it out herself. Be glad your mother told her 'no' so she could get her in the tub."

Madge thinks she may burst into flames. She's never been so embarrassed in her life, and after she'd made it through dinner without them hating her.

Tears begin to well in her eyes and she almost crumbles the picture Posy had colored her in her hands as she looks at Mr. Hawthorne.

"I'm so sorry." It was bad enough he'd see, but if poor little Posy had come up…"Please don't be mad. We won't do it again."

His expression softens on her. "Young lady, I'm not anymore mad than I am ignorant." He gives her a small smile. "Just…give be a little more aware of your surroundings, okay?"

Nodding tearfully, Madge tries to sink into the seat.

Mr. Hawthorne leans against the side of the door. "Madge, honey, I'm not mad."

Maybe he isn't, but he's got to be thinking all kinds of terrible things about her, and that's just as bad.

Miserably, she nods again and hears him sigh.

"Gale, you've got thirty minutes." He taps the side of the truck with his hand.

#######

The ride home is silent and when they pull into Madge's drive she covers her face with her hands.

"Gale, I'm so sorry." Things had been going so well and damned hormones had gotten the upper hand.

"Why are you sorry?" He frowns deeply. "You weren't exactly in on it alone you know."

"Yeah, but he saw my underwear and-oh, god, Gale, he probably thinks I'm some kind of gussied up tart!"

Gale's jaw drops. "What?"

Heart pounding, Madge begins to imagine all the things Gale's parents are going to think of her. They'd been so lovely and now they were going to think she was just some stupid girl trying to sleep with their son.

"Madge you aren't gussied up." Gale tries to comfort her, attempts to pull her into a hug, but a wave of horror washes over her.

"Did I not dress up enough?" Of course she hadn't. This dress was atrocious, and her shoes were too plain. She should've worn more makeup and done something nicer with her hair. "He'll think I'm a cheap tart!"

"Madge!" Gale grabs her by the shoulders and steadies her, makes her look him in the eyes. "Madge he isn't going to think anything bad about you, okay? They like you."

"They liked me before-"

"And they'll like you still," he assures her. He rubs his thumbs over her shoulders and sighs, lets his eyes drop to his lap as he thinks. Finally, he sighs. "Madge, do you know how many girls I've dated and taken to meet my parents? Officially meet them, not just run into out shopping."

She shakes her head, unsure what he's getting at.

"Zero, none, not a single one." He looks up, through his dark lashes. "You are the first one I've brought home. They aren't going to think anything bad about you. Me maybe, but not you."

"You?" Her nose wrinkles up. "Gale, you're their son. I'm the one they'll come down on."

Gale snorts. "Madge, I have a reputation, and they aren't completely oblivious to it. Even if they know at least half of it's bullshit, that still leaves another half they've got to question."

Madge shakes her head. "Gale…"

"Madge," he takes her hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckle, "I'm the bad influence. They know that and we know that, even if I'm trying really hard not to be."

She almost points out that he's not a bad influence, but clamps her mouth shut. Only a few weeks ago she would've agreed with him. Now though, she can see he's got a good heart, he's just ruled by a bit of a forceful spirit. He doesn't think things through all the way and it's led to a lot of missed opportunities for the both of them.

He arches an eyebrow, almost daring her to question his logic, and since she can't get her thoughts into words she can't.

A little grin twitches up at the corner of his lips. It slips off almost instantaneously and a long, low, agonizing groan rolls out of Gale's chest as he turns back to his steering wheel and leans forward, letting his forehead come to a rest against it before sighing. "Do you have any idea what kind of embarrassing conversation I'm going to have to have with my parents when I get home?"

Madge grimaces. She can guess.

"You haven't known true horror until you've had to hear both your parents use the words 'condom' and 'sex' in a conversation pertaining to you."

Silently, Madge hopes that Gale's parents will have let the situation die down before either one of her own parents are able to return home for any extended amount of time. She neither needs nor wants any kind of sex talk from them.

"Text me?" She tells him, squeezing his hand. "Let me know how bad it went?"

The tiny grin reforms as he leans in and catches her lips in another kiss, and for a second Madge almost forgets the white hot embarrassment she'd felt only a moment earlier. If they're going to get in trouble for something she almost wants to do the something she's going to get in trouble for.

She jerks back though, when she sees the reflection of her neighbor's front porch light in Gale's window. Even if Gale's parents forgive them, Mr. Abernathy wouldn't be quite so understanding of teenage hormones.

Giving Gale one last peck, Madge scoots away and out the passenger side door. "Text me when you get home, let me know you made it safe."

He waits for her to get up the porch, open the door and wave to him as she shuts it, before he backs up and drives away.

#######

Gale pulls back into his driveway, parks and digs his phone out of his pocket, quickly texting Madge to let her know he's made it.

She' probably already in her pajamas, a pair of running shorts and a ratty t-shirt and he shakes his head to clear the image from his head. It had been remembering her pile of discarded bras that had dulled his normally sharp senses earlier, made him miss his dad sneaking up on them. He needs to be completely focused when he goes in to be lectured on what is and is not appropriate to do in the driveway by his mom and dad.

He almost laughs. This will mark the first time he's been lectured over something he hasn't even done yet. As annoying as that is, it also gives him a sense of moral satisfaction, which is a wholly foreign feeling.

Half a second later Madge texts back, tells him goodnight, good luck, and to let her know what happens.

She's probably going to sit up, watching crappy late night television until he texts her, or more likely, calls her to let her know what his parents say.

He hadn't just been trying to comfort her when he'd said they wouldn't think anything bad about her. Honestly, he didn't think they would. Madge is impossibly sweet; they'd seen that first hand. Plus, Katniss, who doesn't seem to like anyone, had vouched for her.

"Madge is nice," she'd told Gale's mother. High praise coming from her.

Banishing visions of lacy bras and tiny running shorts from his head, Gale opens his door and steps out, takes a deep breath.

He's going to have to face it eventually.


	22. Lotta love, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. It's all hers.

May, Sophomore Year

Gale stares warily at the back door of his house. The lights are off in the kitchen, but that isn't indicative of anything. His parents are probably trying to lull him into a false sense of security.

He considers cutting left and crawling through his bedroom window. Rory will already be asleep and when he's out it's like a rock. Vick will hear him, but he's still got a little reverie for Gale. He can be convinced to keep his big mouth shut.

Running a hand over his face, Gale sighs. He can't avoid them. They'll be waiting for him, his dad had given him thirty minutes, and if they see his truck in the drive they'll know he's tried to get out of their little discussion. That'll be another lecture he'll have to sit through, and really, he doesn't feel like doubling his punishment.

Knowing full well this is going to be agonizing, Gale trudges up to the door.

When he steps in and lets the door clatter shut behind him, squinting around, he thinks maybe he's gotten lucky.

The kitchen is empty, and if it's empty his parents will have gone into the living room and that means one thing.

Comfy chairs. He hasn't known them to make it past the ten o'clock news sitting in the living room in the past five years. Their age and four kids have finally caught up with them.

If they've fallen asleep he can avoid them tonight, then leave early in the morning, come home late all week (blaming homework, or Coach Cray, or Thom) and with any luck by next weekend when he's forced to sit down with them again they'll feel like the time for intervention has past.

It's perfect.

Quietly, he tiptoes through the kitchen and spies the television on in the living room. His prayers have been answered.

Then he hears a throat being cleared.

Turning to the dining room, which they never use, not even for Sunday dinner, he finds his parents sitting at the ancient table they'd been given by his mother's parents, Nonnie and Poppop.

"Oh," Gale mumbles, rubbing his neck. "Didn't see you guys there."

"Mmmhmm," his dad grunts, sitting back in the creaky old chair and pointing to the seat across from and him and Gale's mom.

It had been a trick; Gale shouldn't have expected any less from them. From the dining room window, just behind their backs, they could easily see when he pulled in and the light is crappy. It doesn't even spill into the hallway, just stays pooling over the table.

After Gale drops into the seat, shifts uncomfortably under their stares, they sit in increasingly thick silence for several agonizing minutes.

When it gets to be too much, Gale starts to stand. "Well, this has been enlightening."

"Sit," his dad grunts again, causing Gale to drop back to his seat. He sits forward, elbows to the table, hands running roughly over his face. "Son…"

"Sweetie," his mother begins, pressing her fingers to her temples. "We know you've, well, we know you aren't, uh-"

"We know you've had sex before," his dad finally finishes for her, his hands still over his face, as though he can pretend not to actually be having this conversation if he doesn't look at Gale.

It gets quiet again, and Gale traces his finger over a line in the grain in the wood, wondering how long it'll be before he can sleep without his dad's voice saying 'sex' waking him up in a cold sweat. Weeks? Years? Time will tell.

His mother sighs and Gale looks up and meets her worried eyes.

"Gale, we just want to make sure you're, you know, careful." She smiles weakly. "We want to be grandparents, just not anytime soon."

Gale feels his face burn.

Why were they bringing this up now? He'd gone out with plenty of girls, and they were apparently pretty well aware of what went on during those so-called dates. Why were they suddenly concerned about Gale getting Madge pregnant?

He almost wants to point out that getting Madge pregnant wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen to him. The kid would be a stunner and Madge, despite her less than stellar baby care skills during Ms. Coin's class, would be a pretty good mom. It would be a thousand times better than him getting any of the other girls he's been out with knocked-up. Disaster didn't even begin to cover what a baby with the girl from the 'stop and shop' that his mother had called a 'cheap floozy' would be. Those don't seem like very good points to make at the moment though.

"You won't be," Gale mumbles. "Trust me."

Madge isn't ready and he isn't going to push it.

If he wanted to sleep with someone he had plenty of easy options, but that wasn't what he was after. He wouldn't turn it down, but it wasn't the point of this relationship.

He actually has things to talk about with Madge, things to think about, and sitting with her and watching stupid movies isn't tedious. Just being around her is enough, though the kissing is a definite highlight.

"I know you don't think you'll get caught up, but things can escalate…" his mom gestures absently. She makes a face. "We just want to make sure you're prepared."

"You keep a condom with you?" His dad asks, looking anywhere but at Gale.

Gale winces. Why can't his parents use the lovely little euphemisms everyone else uses? Like 'protection'? Why did his dad have to say 'condom'? Gale's definitely going to have nightmares.

"Yeah," Gale mumbles, his eyes still focusing on the wood grain.

He sees his dad nodding uncomfortably in the periphery of his vision, 'good, good'.

"Look," Gale finally looks up, his eyes finding a seam in the curtains to focus on, he can't look at them and get through this, "like you guys said, I've been…active"-see? nice euphemism-"for a while and I've managed not to not screw it up yet."

So why would he mess up now?

His parents exchange an annoyingly knowing look before his mother forces a little smile for him.

"Because we know you. You're our son." She closes her eyes. "You're very…passionate and that can lead to getting carried away."

"All the other girls you've been with," his dad begins, giving Gale an apologetic half glance, "they've been-and don't take this the wrong way-just ways to pass the time."

"And if that's what you needed and they needed that's okay." His mother flushes and Gale can tell she wishes she weren't having to be so understanding. "You're old enough to make decisions about your body-"

Oh god.

"-but we were young once too, and we know what can happen."

Yes, Gale is aware of that. He can do math, it's one of his better classes actually.

His birthday is only four months after his parents wedding anniversary and only four and a half months after their high school graduation, he'd worked out that he wasn't exactly a planned child a long time ago.

While he appreciates his parents trying to prevent him from having to have this very same conversation with his own bratty teenager sooner rather than later, the fact still stands that he's been careful and there's no reason to think he won't continue to be.

"I promise I won't get Madge pregnant," he mutters, putting his face to the table and wishing he were in bed, with or without Madge.

"We know you wouldn't mean to," his mom starts again. "But, like we said, you…"

"You don't always think," his dad adds helpfully. "Like out in the drive."

His mom cuts in again, "And like we said, you're very…passionate. With the other girls you were thinking. There was," she makes a pained face, as though she can barely get herself to say the rest of her thought, "a purpose to your, um, let's call them 'dates' and with Madge you don't have an end in mind."

Gale frowns. Isn't that a good thing? Doesn't that mean he's growing up?

"It means things can escalate quickly and you may not realize what's happened until it's happened," his dad explains, rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his gaze on a knot in the wood of the table. "And the consequences will catch you."

"We should know," his mother adds with an apologetic smile.

Gale lifts his head just enough to give her a horrified look. "I didn't need to hear that."

His conception has been explained. He's the result of a frantic make-out session that went a little too far.

Gale's nightmares are now going to include his parents as horny high school seniors, testing out the shocks of the now broken down Ford rusting behind his granddad's barn. He was probably conceived in that deathtrap.

Letting his head drop back to the table, Gale gently starts to tap his forehead against it. Maybe he can slowly beat the image out of his mind.

His mother reaches across the table and smoothes out the back of Gale's hair, where he's tugged at it unconsciously during the course of the conversation. "Gale, does-is Madge on the pill?"

What? Is he supposed to know that? Is that common knowledge that boyfriends are supposed to have?

For half a second he considers asking Thom, but quickly squashes that thought. Thom is the go to guy for imaginative truths, if that. Even if he knows the answer, he'll tell Gale some bullshit story just to have the joy of knowing it will blow up in his face at some point.

He could ask Katniss, but she's about as knowledgeable as he is about relationships.

There's always Mellark, he's got an unnatural amount of information on both girls and relationships. Something about magazines. But then Gale will have to look at Mellark's smug face as he patiently tells him something that 'of course' Gale doesn't know.

It isn't worth it. Gale would rather be ignorant than get schooled by Mellark of the Golden Spandex.

"I, uh, don't know," Gale frowns at his mom.

She nods. "Well, maybe I can talk to her about getting on it. Just in case."

No.

If there's one way to guarantee that Gale won't get to have sex, possibly ever, maybe never even get to touch Madge again, it's to have his mother discuss safe-sex with her. Though, Gale thinks irritably, that may be his mother's plan. She's devious like that.

"She does have parents," Gale points out, sitting up and pressing his fingers to his eyes until he sees stars. Even if they're never home and probably haven't considered their baby girl needing any kind of birth control.

His mom gives him a small look. "I just don't want anything to happen, and if I need to take her to her doctor then I can."

Letting his hands drop to his lap, Gale looks over at his parents, both watching him with careful, worried expressions.

He sighs. They mean well, not wanting him to repeat their mistakes, him, but really, this is just too much help. He appreciates the concern, and they may have him pegged as far as where his head is most of the time, but he's had enough parental guidance for this and several lifetimes.

"I'll, uh, talk to Madge about stuff, alright?"

He'll wear a condom at all times in her presence if it keeps him from ever having to talk to his parents about what he does or doesn't do with his penis ever again.

His dad gestures to the drive and give Gale a little have smile. "And can you keep it PG in the drive? I don't need to know what that poor girl's panties look like and neither do your brothers."

Gale makes a face and nods.

#######

After Gale is dismissed, with plenty of fuel for his nightmares rattling around in his head, he gets ready for bed.

Once he's certain his parents are asleep, at nearly eleven, he opens the window in the room he shares with his brothers and crawls out. Neither of his nosey roommates wake, even when he knocks the Ninja Turtles alarm clock off the table with his foot, and Gale quickly and quietly pads across the slightly damp grass of the backyard and settles into the tire swing in the big tree before pulling out his phone.

"Gale?" Madge's voice, not even remotely thick with sleep, answers.

"Hey," he almost sighs. It's good to hear something as pleasant as his name off her lips after the last hour or so.

She hesitates for a minute, then asks. "So?"

Trying to sound as though it were nothing, other than mortifying that is, Gale tells her about his parents concerns.

"They think we were going to do it in front of your house?" She sounds horrified. "They really do think I'm some kind of trollop!"

"No, Madge," Gale tugs at his hair, "they don't think that about you."

Him, obviously, but not her.

"They think I need to be on the pill, Gale. Like I'm some kind of dog in heat!" She's buried her face in one of her pillows by the sound of her voice. "Like we can't control ourselves because we're hormonal teenagers!"

Gale almost points out that they are, in fact, hormonal teenagers, but thinks better of it. Much like telling his parents that there are worse girls he could get pregnant, it seems like a bad choice at the moment.

He also decides not to tell her that his mother had offered to drive her to her doctor. It might not go over well.

"Madge, look, they only think it because they know how much I like you and they think I'm just going to get-" he almost says sloppy, but stops himself, it sounds dirtier than he intends "-careless because I'm going to get caught up in the moment for once and-"

"Caught up in the moment?" Gale can hear the frown in her voice. "Isn't that how it always is?"

A little chuckle almost slips out, but Gale catches and forces it back down. She's such a romantic, even if she doesn't know it.

"No, not really." He sighs. "As my dad put it, the other girls were to 'pass the time'."

He can almost visualize her nose scrunching up as she thinks over what he's said.

"Do I even want to know what that means?"

He doubts it. His past relationships were short and intense and both parties knew the parameters they were working in. They were functional things, fulfilled needs and kept them occupied until they both got bored. It's not something he really wants to discuss with Madge.

She sighs into the phone and Gale hears her shuffling, covering up with one of the dozen or so blankets hidden around the living room. "So you like me so much your parents think we'll just tear each other's clothes off and get pregnant right off the bat?"

There's a hint of a smirk in her voice, as if she's finally seeing the humor in the situation.

He doesn't tell her that his parents are only using their own past as the measure, though he thinks maybe he should. It might make her a little less self-conscious around them, knowing they'd been hormonal teenagers that had torn each other's clothes off and gotten pregnant. He decides to keep that bit of information to himself for the time being. Even if they're trying to embarrass him into celibacy, he doesn't want to air that bit of laundry and upset them. He isn't mad. Besides, Madge can do math, she'll figure it out eventually.

"Well, I'm very handsome," Gale reminds her instead. "I have it on good authority I'm irresistible."

Madge snorts into the phone. "Right."

Gale laughs, almost too loud, spinning himself in the swing. He grins up at the sky, dotted with pinpoints of light. "At least we'll have pretty kids."

There's a smile in her voice. "Will we?"

"Someday," he adds glad she hadn't taken his verbal slip up the wrong way. "After high school and college."

"Definitely," she laughs.

After another few minutes of spinning in the tire swing, watching the stars become blurs overhead, Gale finally decides to go to bed.

"I'll see you in the morning?"

"Only if you promise to ugly yourself up a little," Madge teases. "I mean, what if I just can't control myself for the five minutes it takes to get to school?"

Gale grins. "I'll just not shave."

"What a hardship for you."

The line goes quiet for a minute, then he hears her let out a long breath.

"So, they really aren't mad?"

Getting up, Gale pops his back. "Not even close."


	23. Act naturally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. It's all hers.

March, Sophomore Year

Gale runs his hand over his hair in an attempt to get it to lie down and not look like he's spent the better part of the day in a hot barn working on a crappy tractor. Even though that's exactly what he's been doing.

His Pawpaw had called that morning, cursing a blue streak over his antique of a tractor that had broken down as he'd tried to start it to go out brush hogging.

"Don't worry, dad. The boys and I'll be over in a few minutes and we'll get it started," Gale heard his dad say over the phone in the kitchen as Gale inhaled a plate of hash browns.

Less than an hour later, after dragging Rory out of bed, Gale found himself with his dad trying to figure out just what exactly was wrong with 'ole red'. Other than being older than the dust that's settled on everything in the barn.

"It was working just last week," Pawpaw grumbled as he kicked the tire.

"Is there gas in it?" Rory had asked, earning him a snappy 'Don't you think I checked that' from Pawpaw.

It wasn't Gale's ideal way to spend his weekend, but it got him out of helping Thom clean out his great aunt's filthy horse trailers for less than minimum wage and Meemaw had given him half a dozen freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, so it was an improvement.

After an entire morning, and several glasses of lemonade, they'd pinpointed the source of the problem.

"We'll have to head up to the supply store," Gale's dad told the group as he lifted his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead before it could roll down into his eyes.

"Do I have to come?" Rory asked. "I mean, I'm not really helping."

A truer statement had never been uttered. Rory had eaten cookies, ferried lemonade from the house to the barn, and made unhelpful commentary, but hadn't done much else. Gale was more than happy to leave him with Meemaw while he, his dad, and Pawpaw went and got the part for the tractor.

Apparently his dad felt the same way, he sent Rory, practically skipping with joy, back to the house as he, Gale, and Pawpaw piled into the truck.

They'd just pulled up to the supply store when Gale realized just how close it was to the sweet shop. Disaster was brewing. He could taste it.

Now, as his dad is unbuckling and Pawpaw is adjusting the bill of his cap, Gale almost frantically tries to make himself presentable. It's only a slim chance that he'll see Madge, she may not even be working, but he doesn't want to take the chance.

"Why are you fussing with your hair?" Pawpaw asks, squinting at Gale. "It'll fall out you mess with it too much."

Gale almost asks if that's what happened to his hair, but decides that might be crossing a line. People are weird about their hair.

"His little girlfriend works across the street," Gale's dad explains, less than helpfully and earning him a glare from Gale.

Pawpaw shifts in the seat, turns and looks out the back window as though the girl in question is sitting in the truck bed. "Where?"

"At the sweet shop," Gale's dad says, pointing, very obviously, at Madge's granddad's shop.

If Madge looked out the window she'd see a pair of old men squinting and staring at her shop front. Gale feels his face heat up at the thought.

"She isn't my girlfriend," he mutters, smashing his sweaty hair down one last time for good measure.

"He fixed her car," his dad tells Pawpaw. "Pretty girl. Very sweet."

Nodding, Pawpaw follows Gale out the passenger side door and almost falls when he misses the rusted running board. Gale manages to keep him upright and helps him up the step to the sidewalk and then into the dusty smelling supply store.

"Pretty, huh?" Pawpaw carries on, as though Gale isn't trying to ignore him. "What she look like?"

Gale keeps his mouth clamped shut, refusing to feed into his families weird need to annoy him. His dad takes the bait though, grinning obnoxiously. Definitely where Rory gets it.

"Blonde, cute little girl-" Gale cringes at his dad's use of 'little girl', it makes him feel like a creep "-yay tall, her granddad owns the sweet shop actually."

"Herschel's girl? Isn't she a bit old for him?"

"No, dad," Gale hears his dad chuckle, "granddaughter I think."

He looks to Gale for confirmation, but Gale only keeps his eyes down, tracing the grout on the supply store floor. Can they not keep their voices down a bit? Gale knows they're both hard of hearing on a good day, but half the store has heard their conversation.

"Hope she looks like her grandmother," Pawpaw says. He nudges Gale in the side with a grin. "She was a looker. Almost dated her back in high school. Don't know why she picked Herschel."

Cringing, Gale tries to banish the thought of Pawpaw fighting for Madge's grandmother's affections from his mind. It makes him uncomfortable on more levels than he knew existed.

"Why haven't you asked her out?" Pawpaw asks finally, adjusting his teeth in his mouth with his tongue, making a squishing noise as he does so.

Gale rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to have this conversation in public. Or at all actually. It's embarrassing.

"He doesn't think she likes him very much," his dad explains.

Technically, Gale is pretty sure Madge hates him, but 'doesn't think she likes him very much' is a way to soften that blow he supposes.

Pawpaw nods, somberly. "Afraid of rejection, huh? I'd be scared to, with a mug as ugly as yours."

He bursts into wheezy laughter at his own joke and, rolling his eyes again, Gale nods. "Yeah, that's it. Thanks Pawpaw."

Slapping Gale on the back, sending a stinging pain through his shoulder, Pawpaw dissolves into another fit of dry chuckles. "Come on boy! Use that face of yours and ask her out. You weren't born good-looking for nothing. Not met a girl yet that can resist the Hawthorne charm."

Mouth firmly shut, Gale starts picking through the shelves, ignoring Pawpaw's continued prodding. He doesn't want anyone to hear about the supposed 'Hawthorne charm', especially not while Gale is still in viewing range. It's a myth if there ever was one.

When it comes to Madge he's been anything but charming, and that's putting it kindly.

So far, he's dumped gravy on her, nearly killed her by showing off in gym, and, worst of all, splattered her in squirrel guts. Yes, Gale has just oozed charm and likability all over Madge.

"Maybe I should go over there and see her," Gale hears Pawpaw say somewhere behind him. "Might could talk you up to her a bit."

"No." The last thing Gale needs is his insane granddad jabbering at Madge. He'll make Gale sound like some kind of stalker or a pervert or...there's no telling what he'd tell Madge really. The mortification at the mere thought might just kill him.

"I just wanna get a look at her." Pawpaw squints in the direction of the window again. "I'll just go get some ice cream."

"No," Gale tells him again, this time through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Gale, let Pawpaw go get some ice cream," his dad says with a grin. "We can all go."

"No." Both his dad and Pawpaw in the sweet shop with Madge would be a nightmare. Gale would have to enter the witness protection program, it would be that bad.

"Maybe we can ask her to come out to work on the tractor with us," his dad offers. "Meemaw has all those cookies and lemonade."

Gale rubs his eyes. What part of 'no' don't they understand?

Silently he thanks his lucky stars that Rory hadn't come with them. He lives for needling Gale, and having his dad and granddad's implicit permission to do so would make him ten times more irritating than he normally is.

"Can we just get the part and get the stupid tractor fixed?" He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking away.

Once he's left his meddling dad and Pawpaw behind, Gale heads outside. He needs some fresh air and to regain his hearing.

He drops onto the bench in front of the store and puts his head in his hands, massaging his temples. For a few minutes he sits there, wondering if he can walk home from town and avoid more embarrassing conversations, before he looks up.

Through the window of the sweet shop he can see Madge sweeping the floor, some bunch of kids probably spilled something.

For a few minutes he watches her, memorizing the way her ponytail sways and wondering if she's still using the strawberry body spray she'd started using recently or if she's gone back to the raspberry one. Then he watches as she looks up from her work and smiles.

While Gale had been staring at Madge, someone had walked into the shop. Peeta Mellark, cupcake in hand.

Madge lights up, props the broom against the counter and takes the cupcake from Mellark's outstretched hand with a dazzling smile. She lifts it to her nose and sniffs it, says something to Mellark, then they both laugh.

A bubble of irritation grows in Gale's stomach.

He knows Mellark and Madge aren't dating, or at least they hadn't been the last time he'd spoken to the king of spandex. Maybe things had changed between then and now though. They looked pretty chummy from where he sits. It wouldn't surprise him if Mellark had finally realized how amazing she was and asked her out. That would be Gale's luck.

Mellark puts his hands on his hips and says something, it must be pretty funny, because Madge throws back her head and laughs again before reaching out, cupcake still in hand, and pulls Mellark into a hug. Gale's stomach rolls as she wraps her arms around Mellark's thick neck and squeezes him tightly.

Getting up, Gale checks that his dad and Pawpaw aren't back at the front of the store where they can see him, then jogs across the street.

He pats his hair down one last time then opens the door to the sweet shop.

Madge has let go of Mellark, thank god, and both blonds turn to see just who has come into the store to interrupt them.

Mellark gives Gale a placid, benign smile, but Madge forces one, turning it into more of a grimace.

"Can I help you?"

Gale nods. "Ice cream."

God, he sounds like a caveman. Why can't he speak in complete sentences around her instead of grunting like an idiot?

Coughing into his sleeve, he tries again. "Uh, a scoop of ice cream."

Not much better, but at least she'd understood him this time because she nods and scurries around the counter to the ice cream and gives him a tight look. "What kind?"

He starts to panic. He hadn't thought this through. His only thought had been to come over and break up their little hug-fest, he isn't even sure he has any money. Did he even grab his wallet when he left the house this morning? The thought of having to cross back to the supply store and ask his dad for money is humiliating. He'd have to explain why he'd gone for ice cream in the first place, then Pawpaw would start in on wanting to come over again, then, God help Gale, he'd probably have to let him. He's signed his own death warrant by rushing over.

Reaching into his back pocket, Gale finds his wallet and sighs.

Madge makes a small noise. "Um, what kind of ice cream?"

Judging by the look she's giving him she probably thinks he's got some kind of brain damage, maybe from one too many hits during football.

"Chocolate," he finally grunts again. Great, back to single word sentences. Hawthorne charm in full force.

She nods, scoops up a cone for him, then goes to the ancient looking cash register.

Gale flips through his wallet, pulls out the money and hands it to her, takes his unwanted ice cream, then stares for a minute, uncertain what to do.

Madge bites her lip. "So...having a good weekend?"

He nods. Madge nods back. The awkward silence stretches on until Gale realizes his dad and Pawpaw are probably about finished. He doesn't want them to come looking for him.

"See you Monday," he mumbles before taking his now melting ice cream and heading for the door.

Mellark arches one of his blond eyebrows and gives him a pitying look as he watches Gale push the door open, making the little bell overhead jingle.

Jogging back across the road, Gale meets up with his dad and Pawpaw right as they come out of the supply store. He hands Pawpaw the cone. "Here."

Taking it, Pawpaw squints back across the road in disappointment. "You went without us?"

His dad peeks around Gale's shoulder. "Did you tell her we said 'hi'?"

Gale grunts in the negative before stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking away, back toward the truck. "Let's just go."

He needs to get them as far away from Madge as he can. Clearly he doesn't need any help making himself look like an ass in her presence.

"We have a tractor to fix."


	24. Wintertime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. It's all hers.

November, Junior Year

Gale groans when he hangs up with his mother. He was supposed to have the whole evening off, away from the kids, away from babysitting, to spend with Madge.

"I'm sorry, honey," his mother had apologized. "Your dad had to stay late because of the weather coming, they want to winterize everything before the snow comes in, and I can't leave early. Plus, I think he's going to have to come pick me up after work. I just don't think my car is going to be safe in this weather."

He understood, he did, but what good was a snow front coming in if he couldn't use it as an excuse to hang out at his girlfriend's house, build a roaring fire, and watch movies while wrapped up in a fleecy blanket. It had been going so well too. They should be able to get another two hours out of the deal.

"Its fine," he'd lied. "I'll go get them."

The last thing he wants to do is go get his brothers and sister from his grandparents, but the roads may get bad and he doesn't want either of his parents traversing the rural roads in the dark if ice comes with the snow. Which, with his luck, it will.

Madge comes back in as he hangs up, a bowl of puppy chow in her hands and a smudge of powdered sugar across her cheek. "I guess our evening in is over, huh?"

Gale just nods as he fights his way out of her nest of blankets. He looks around for his button up shirt and tries to straighten out his messy hair. Rory will never shut up about it if he shows up with bed head. "I have to go get the kids." He sighs, looks up and frowns at her. "Sorry."

Nose wrinkling up, Madge looks down at her bowl, considering something before she looks up.

"Why don't I come with you? It's not good to go out alone with the weather coming in."

For several seconds Gale just stares at her, processing what she's said before he shakes his head. She's lost her marbles. "I won't be able to get you home before the snow comes in. You'll end up stuck out at my house."

A little grin forms on her lips. "Oh?"

"Yeah, Madge, the front might come in faster than we think and my grandparents live out in the sticks. I don't want you stuck out at our house for days."

One of her eyebrows quirks up. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that."

He stares at her and rolls what she's said over in his head for a minute then smiles. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't say that either."

#######

After Madge packs a bag, ignoring Gale's suggestions ("I cannot wear that around your brothers." Her face had turned a beautiful shade of crimson. "Or your dad.") they finally bundle up and leave.

"I wouldn't come," she tells him, as if suddenly trying to defend her honor. "But Peeta and his brothers are at their mom's and Mr. Abernathy is out of town and poppa can't get out in this and my dad is stuck up in the city..."

And she doesn't want to be stranded in her big empty house alone. She doesn't say as much, but

Gale knows her well enough at this point to hear it. She'd spend all her time in her room, snuggled down in a dozen blankets, watching soap operas and Disney movies while eating powdered sugar covered treats. Not for the first time he curses her inattentive family and her missing mom. She shouldn't be stuck at home by herself, especially not in the middle of a snow storm.

Gale wraps an arm around her and ushers her down her back steps to his truck, which he'd started ten minutes earlier so it would be warm for her. She hates getting into a cold car.

Once they get in he pulls out his ratty blanket from behind the seat and throws it over her. She wiggles into his side and buries her face in his jacket. "My nose is cold."

Leaning down, Gale presses a quick kiss to the pinkened tip of her nose. It's like ice against his lips. "Better?"

She doesn't answer, just burrows further into his side.

It's a long, chilly ride out to his grandparents' house. There are already slick spots and Gale makes a mental note to thank his dad for helping him put sandbags in the back of his truck before work that morning. He'd be fishtailing all over the road without the extra weight.

After a slow drive, Gale finally spots his grandparents' place.

It's small, smaller than Gale's house even. Old worn wood and a porch that's sagging with age, it looks like it might collapse with a good gust. It's almost unimaginable that they raised three children in it.

Every time Gale steps foot in his dad's old room, which is a quarter the size of Gale and his brothers', he realizes how lucky he is. He can't fathom sharing a space that tiny with anyone, and his dad had to do it with Uncle Levi. He's worse than Rory on a bad day. It's no wonder he has the patience of a saint.

Smoke is spiraling up, into the frigid sky, and Gale spots Pawpaw out at the wood stack with what looks to be Rory. They're both bundled up, faces barely visible under thier thick hats and fluffy scarves. As Gale puts the truck in park the two trudge up, arms full of firewood.

"You can sit in the truck," Gale tells Madge. He wants to get in and out with as little embarrassment as possible.

"I wanna meet your grandparent," she says, her voice muffled by the neck of her jacket, hitched up over her nose.

She doesn't know what she's saying. She needs prepping to meet his grandparents. They're old and have lost their filters. There's no telling what will come out of their mouths. Nothing good, that's for sure.

He's going to tell her 'no'. It's a terrible idea, but she looks up at him with her clear blue eyes, blinks owlishly up at him, and he caves. He's such a pushover.

"Fine." But she's going to regret it and she won't be able to say he didn't try to stop her.

"'Bout damn time you got here," Pawpaw grumbles as Gale and Madge finally get out of the truck and meet him and Rory as they come up on the porch. He isn't mad, but cold weather makes his arthritis act up and that makes him unbearably cranky.

His soured expression softens when he notices Madge at Gale's side. "Who's this?"

"That's Madge," Rory answers for Gale his voice muffled under layers of scarves. "The poor girl he's blackmailing into dating him."

Gale shoots him a filthy look. He can kiss any chance he had of getting Gale to help him with his science project goodbye.

Pawpaw's face breaks into a grin. "I get to meet the bride before the wedding? What an honor." He holds out his hand to her. "I'm Silas. I'm where Gale got all his charm and good looks."

Gale isn't sure a groan is sufficient enough a noise to give life to the all encompassing embarrassment his granddad is probably planning on putting on him. He's actually certain it isn't.

Shifting his glare to Pawpaw, Gale nudges Madge. "Let's get in."

He takes the wood from Pawpaw's arms and they make their way up the steps, just as snow starts to gently break from the clouds.

The second they step through the door the scent of warmth, burning wood and baking cookies, hits Gale. He could melt into a puddle right there in the sea of boots in the entryway.

"Gale!" Posy's has flung herself at him before he's even put the wood down. "We made snicker doodles and punkin bread and-"

"Gale!" Meemaw, apparently having heard Posy's squealing, comes into the living room. Her bright red sweater is covered in flour. "What's that on your face?"

She leans in to inspect his week's worth of stubble, which is really more of a beard, and sighs.

"You look like your uncle Levi. You aren't going to wander off and live, what does he call it, 'off the grid', are you?"

Before Gale can tell her that no, he isn't going to go live off the land in a cave, or whatever Uncle Levi was calling his current residence, she's moved on.

"And who are you?" She asks Madge.

Rory misses his moment this time. Pawpaw steals it.

"It's his girlfriend." He shifts his teeth in his mouth. "She really does exist!"

As if to cement the fact that he might've actually thought Madge was nothing more than a figment of Gale's overactive imagination, or maybe a cardboard cutout, he pokes Madge in the shoulder. "Completely solid."

Meemaw plucks Madge's hat off, dusts some of the fluffy, white flakes from her shoulders and the tips of her hair, and takes her face in her hands. "Oh you are a pretty thing aren't you? It's hard to tell from those pictures on his phone." She cuts her eyes at Gale accusingly. "He's so stingy with his pictures from prom. Won't even give me one for the wall."

Actually, Gale had not. He'd come over, only a few days after prom with Posy in tow, his phone full of pictures in hand. She'd seen every single one of them.

"But how am I supposed to put these up on the wall?" She'd asked, pushing her glasses up her nose as she squinted down at Gale's phone.

It had taken biting the inside of his cheek for Gale to keep from telling her that she had enough pictures on her walls. It was bordering on creepy how many pictures of himself were staring blankly down at him. Then there were the few and progressively more terrifying pictures of his pain-in-the-ass cousins. They could give anyone nightmares. She thought they were all gorgeous though.

Despite her sad looks, and she had those in spades, Gale simply kept forgetting to get real pictures printed for her. All the guilt in the world couldn't make his memory over things he really didn't want to do better.

She probably expects Madge to agree, the fact that almost no one has physical copies of photos anymore baffles her to no end. Maybe she thinks Madge has some of her and Gale's prom pictures hidden in her jacket. Madge, however, simply blinks uncertain how to respond.

"Oh, sorry," is all she manages to say.

"Madge!" Vick bounces in from the kitchen, a cookie in both hands. He looks from Madge, to his cookies, then back again. A bit reluctantly, he holds one of the cookies out to her. "Cookie?"

"You should stay for dinner," Meemaw twitters on. "I can whip up some goulash and we can play Uno."

"Meemaw," Gale cuts her off, "I have to get home before the roads get bad."

"And he needs to get his little girlfriend home." Pawpaw's bushy gray eyebrows arch up and his lips twitch into a smirk as he looks between Gale and Madge. "Right?"

Despite the fact that Gale is almost certain Pawpaw knows there's pretty much no way Madge is going to be making it home at this point, he nods. "Right."

Rory snorts. "Riiight."

Vick, looking confused, places one of his cookies in Madge's hand. "But the weather lady said the roads are already getting bad. Is it safe to drive all the way back to town?"

"Madge should have a sleepover!" Posy cheerfully offers.

Meemaw's mouth falls open, completely scandalized by the thought. "Posy, no. Her parents wouldn't like that, I'm sure."

Neither Gale nor Madge feels the need to point out that Madge's parents are MIA, but Rory decides it's pertinent information.

"They wouldn't even know," he tells them, cutting Gale a little look before continuing.

"Madge's parents aren't home. They were having a date and mom cut it short 'cause she needed Gale to pick us up."

If the thought of a 'sleepover' was unpleasant to Meemaw, Gale and Madge on a date in a house void of parental supervision is just as bad. Her lips press together and she chews her tongue. Gale thinks his dad will be getting a talking to later about how he's raising his son. It won't be the first.

"Like she even has any room to talk," he'd told Gale once. "Olive ran off when she was in high school and came back with a baby two years later. Fire and brimstone isn't the only way to raise a kid."

While Gale loves his grandparents, and his dad loves them too, it's good to know that they aren't in charge of his life, especially his grandma. Their mistakes have clearly made his dad a much more tolerant parent, and for that Gale is grateful.

With one last disapproving huff, Meemaw heads to the kitchen, telling Vick and Posy to follow after her. "We'll get you all some goodies packed up."

With a sheepish expression and pinkened cheeks that have nothing to do with the cold, Madge looks to Pawpaw. "Um, can I use the bathroom?"

Even if Meemaw has cooled on Madge, or at least the way her and Gale's relationship is being handled, Pawpaw looks unfazed. He grins and points her down the hall.

Once she's out of earshot, Pawpaw gives Gale a withered look. "You had a whole house to yourself and you come to pick up the kids? You could've called out here and told me. We should work out a signal."

Gale covers his eyes. He's beginning to understand his own untimely existence a little better with each disturbing conversation he has with Pawpaw, as well as why his Aunt Olive ran off. This is ridiculous.

"Yeah, Gale, what kind of idiot are you?" Rory adds in, putting his still gloved hands to his hips.

"Shut up, Rory," Pawpaw tells him, but then looks at Gale. "But, yeah, what kind of idiot are you?"

The kind that loves his parents, that's the kind, but he doesn't tell them that. Gale just crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes.

"I just don't understand kids these days." Pawpaw shakes his head. "If I were your age with a girl that looked like that, you'd bet your ass I'd take advantage of her parents being away. How much time do you waste with the build-up, boy?"

Even Rory looks horrified at what's been said.

"Gross! Pawpaw, that's nasty!"

"What?" He shrugs. "Your dad didn't come from a stork, and I hate to break it to you, but neither did either of you."

Rory gags. Apparently he's no more inclined than Gale is to learn about just where babies come from. Especially when the source of the knowledge is more wrinkled than a raisin.

Madge reappears, saving them from further unhelpful nuggets of information. Pawpaw apparently has some decency left in him.

"So he finally grew a pair and asked you out, huh?" He begins.

Madge's cheeks deepen to a rose shade and she nods mutely.

"Should've seen him a few months back. Trying to fix his hair, primping like a cat 'cause you were across the street." He grins as Madge laughs softly. "Told him to just turn on the ole Hawthorne charm and you'd be a goner. Works every time."

Gale rolls his eyes and avoids looking at Madge. If there were two words he hoped never to hear together again, it would be 'Hawthorne charm'.

As Gale is studiously examining a picture of himself from the third grade, when he'd failed to give his mother the flier warning of the upcoming picture day and he'd ended up with a yearbook picture of himself in his ninja turtle t-shirt and hair a few days shy of a well needed trim, Madge laughs again.

"'Hawthorne charm', huh? I guess you could say that's what did it."

"You know 'charm' isn't just taking a shower once a week and occasionally carving that dead animal off his face, right?" Rory asks.

Gale makes sure the glare he shoots him sufficiently conveys that the next time they're alone together Rory is going to lose the dead animal attached to his head.

Before Gale can defend himself, if anyone is only showering once a week it's Rory by the smell of it, Meemaw returns, Posy and Vick in tow.

"I got you a loaf of pumpkin bread and a couple dozen snicker doodles." She beams at Gale. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?"

Taking the loaf and cookies from her, Gale shakes his head. "Sorry, Meemaw. I have to get Madge home."

Or at least pretend to try.

Seeing an opening, Madge pipes in. "Next time we come out I'll bring a picture of us at prom for you to frame."

That seems to thaw Meemaw on Madge. She smiles so brightly it might power several houses in town. "That would be wonderful, dear."

She's much more friendly after that, oohing and ahhing over Madge, somehow suddenly the picture of virtue. Funny what an offering of a hideous prom picture will do for a relationship with a grandma.

As she hands Madge's jacket back she fawns over her heavy knitted sweater.

"It's just the cutest thing," she tell her.

Gale likes it too, but for very different reasons than his Meemaw. It's still a sweater, and therefore too thick, putting a wholly unnecessary layer between them when he's hugging her, but it does have the redeeming quality of a v-neck. From the right angle it's a blessing from the sweater gods.

Judging by Rory's little grin and Vick's wide eyes, the sweater's one positive trait had not escaped their notice. He makes another mental note to threaten them if they make any mention of Madge's neckline. Clearly the fear from his talks last summer has faded. They need a little reinforcement.

Madge starts to help Vick with the zipper of his coat, but Gale asks her to help Meemaw with Posy's instead, much to Vick's disappointment.

"But-"

His mouth clamps shut when he spots the sour look on Gale's face and he gives his big brother a sheepish grin.

Once everyone is in enough layers to keep them warm on a trek through the arctic, Meemaw and Pawpaw have given hugs and kisses, even to Madge, much to her confusion; they head out the door into the stinging cold.

Their breath hanging in the air, they wave one last time up to the porch before Gale starts stuffing kids through the passenger side door. He wants to get home so he can get rid of some of these layers. Meemaw's comments had brought them back to his attention.

Posy gets plopped on Rory's lap and Vick acts as a much less annoying and slightly less dirty minded buffer between him and Madge, while Gale happily, and discreetly, wraps his arm around her waist.

"The roads are getting bad," he comments, trying to make it sound like a surprise. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to get you home."

Out the corner of his eye he sees Rory roll his eyes in dramatic fashion. Gale's tone apparently hasn't been as convincing as he'd thought.

"Sleepover!" Posy squeals and claps her hands before beginning in on a list of things she and Madge are going to do during the night.

Gale would be worried that she might cut into the couch time he had planned with Madge, but Posy has about as much longevity as Rory. She'll be asleep before nine.

Slowly they make their way home, the tires slipping on the unsalted roads every now and then and Rory making unnecessary comments about Gale's driving.

"You're supposed to turn into the skid."

"I wasn't skidding."

"It felt like you were."

It feels like Rory needed to stop reading his driver's education manual. He can't even get his learner's permit for another two years so he needs to just shut his mouth so Gale can focus and not end up in a ditch.

When they finally get to the house sleet is coming down heavily so Gale lets the others out by the door before parking his truck under the carport and running in himself. He's got a fine layer of ice in his hair by the time he gets through the back door.

He starts peeling icy layers off and nearly jumps when a pair of hands start helping him with his cumbersome coat.

"You should probably go take a hot shower," Madge tells him through chattering teeth.

"Yeah, and the two of you can save the earth while your at it," Gale hears Rory's obnoxious voice tell him from the hall. "You know, by saving water."

Posy, who'd come up behind him while he's been spying, frowns. "How would they save water?"

Rory knows better than to explain his dirty minded little jab, and his face flushes a deep color. Serves him right.

Vick wanders back in, still battling with one of his boots, and flops to the floor. It's enough of a distraction for Rory, who quickly makes his getaway, pulling Posy with him.

"We might have to amputate," Gale tells Vick with a smirk as he gives the boot yet another fruitless tug before collapsing back onto the cold, wet floor.

Rory must not have gotten far, or maybe his annoying superpower just flared up, because his tussled head pops back in. He grins at Gale, letting his brother know he's about to say something either embarrassing or filthy, ideally both.

"Maybe Madge can help you," he begins, his eyebrows rising up. "She was helping Gale get undressed like a pro. They must practice."

So both it was.

Gale makes a threatening noise, but Rory has already run off, probably to use Posy as a human shield. Coward.

Madge's face is crimson again and she has the backs of her hands pressed to her cheeks.

"Sorry," Gale mutters to her.

She gives him a weak smile then chuckles before dropping down to help Vick with his boot.

It isn't until Gale notices just where Vick's eyes are focused that he realizes how bad a move that is. Damn that sweater and it's dipping neckline.

"Uh, why don't you go change clothes," he tells her, giving her a hand up.

She really does need to change. The legs of her pants are soaked up to the knees and she's still shivering. The farther away from the doorway she gets the better.

With a grateful smile she heads out of the kitchen, leaving Gale to deal with one of his two pains in the ass.

Squatting down, Gale tries to untangle Vick's laces. Once his foot is freed from his boot he tries to stand, but Gale pushes him back down on the rug. "Hold it, bud."

Vick must already know what's coming, he looks anywhere but at Gale and his color deepens. He lets out a defeated little sigh. "I know."

"Know what?"

"Don't look down Madge's shirt." Vick glances at Gale. "But sometimes it's just there."

Gale pats him on the back. "I know."

God does he know.

#######

They all end up camped in the living room.

Rory falls asleep first, sprawled out in thier dad's recliner, his increasingly long legs dangling over the armrests. Posy is next, curled up at the end of the couch by Gale and Madge's feet, her Tinkerbell blanket tangled around her little legs. Vick lasts the longest, propped up on his elbows and entranced by the movie even though he's seen it a dozen times.

Gale knows when his parents get home he's going to have to explain to them why he and Madge are curled up on the couch, wrapped up in one of his Grammy's quilts together, but he can't get too worked up over that at the moment. He's too warm and comfortable and Madge has switched back to her strawberry shampoo. It's like sunning in a field in the summer. Gale can't think too much about what his parents are going to say when his mind is fuzzy and full of Madge. Besides, they're less likely to get in trouble here, surrounded by his nosy siblings, than they would at Madge's house. If he needed back up all he had to do was call Meemaw.

"The evening wasn't such a bust after all, huh?" Madge says, twisting her head around and peeking up at him, her eyes glowing a more vibrant blue in the flicker of the television.

Gale lets his hand settle against her stomach, pulls her closer and soaks up every inch of her heat, then sighs. "Not a bust at all."


	25. 'V' is very, very extraordinary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. It's all hers.

Valentine's Day, Sophomore Year

Gale glares at the flyer on the wall, an announcement for sing-o-grams on Valentine's Day.

It's obnoxious and cheesy, but it interrupts each class at least once during the day, so he can't hate them too much.

Besides, they're kind of funny. No one sends them to anyone they actually like. People use the anonymous option to embarrass their friends, Gale should know, he's received no less than ten mocking renditions of 'L.O.V.E' from Thom over the years. If it weren't such an offensive use of funds, Gale would send one back to his idiot friend as payback.

Five dollars a song, though, is more than Gale is willing to pay to profess his undying love, or more accurately his never ending scorn, for his dick of a friend.

"Planning on sending 'God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You' to Madge?" Thom, who had materialized from somewhere down the hall, asks from over Gale's shoulder.

Refusing to dignify his with an answer, Gale rolls his eyes and starts back down the empty hall, back to zoology and his increasingly ugly doodle of Principal Snow's face.

"Come on, it's a good song, and no one ever chooses it," Thom continues on, jogging to keep up with Gale's longer strides. "What better way to confess your love for the lovely Madge Undersee than through the dulcet crooning of our high school's award losing choir?"

"Stuff it, Thom," Gale grumbles, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm not in the mood."

He'd seen Madge walking with stupid, perfect Peeta 'I'm so funny' Mellark, giggling conspiratorially, his arm slung over her shoulder as they made their way to first hour earlier, and it had soured Gale's whole day.

"Because you dumped gravy on her Friday?" Thom asks, as he swings his hall pass, a pink hairbrush with the Home Ec teacher's name written in black block letters along the handle.

Groaning, Gale stops and presses his fingers to his eyes. Did he have to remind him of that? It isn't like the image of Madge with one of the freshman's breakfast of biscuits and sausage gravy down the front of her shirt has faded from his mind since he'd caused the disaster the week before.

"No, but thanks for bringing it back up."

Thom shrugs. "No problem. What are friends for?"

To add to a guy's misery, that's what Gale's friends are for apparently.

Deciding that it's bad for Thom's health for Gale to spend too much more time together without witnesses, Gale shakes his head and starts back down the hall.

"Maybe I can get my sister to buy that FTD groupon for you," Thom says right before Gale reaches his class's door. He smiles brightly at Gale's irritable glare. "Nothing says 'I wanna touch your butt' like a forty dollar bouquet, purchased at half price."

Since he's appealing to Gale's frugal side, he may be sincere, but that's doubtful. Thom lives to annoy, probably why he and Rory get along so well.

Without answering, Gale grabs the door handle and leaves his idiot friend grinning in the hall, still swinging a pink hairbrush in his hand.

#######

"Here, Gale," Posy says, handing Gale what may be his tenth valentine from her.

"Posy, those are for your class," his mother reminds her warily as she helps Vick copy down the names of his classmates from a list the teacher has provided.

Huffing and blowing her bangs out of the way, Posy gives their mother a haughty look.

"I know, momma," she tells her loftily. "I just-I just have'ded some lefted over and I want Gale to have them."

Their mother looks like she might be considering explaining to Posy that she can't have left-overs if she hasn't even filled out her cards, but thinks better of it. Logic hasn't been working on her youngest lately and it isn't likely to magically start.

Opening the little white envelope, Gale pulls out a simple looking card with a dopey looking cat on it. Posy's been obsessed with the little fur balls lately, ever since a feral one had taken up residence in their backyard.

The little white cat is sitting on a giant pink heart, overly wide blue eyes staring out at Gale, and below it, written in glitter, it says 'Valentine, I think you're purr-fect!'

It is, by and large, one of the stupidest things Gale has ever seen. Posy squeals in delight, though.

"Oh, I like this one!" She says, crawling into Gale's lap and taking the card from him. "I'm glad you got it."

Gale chuckles. "Well you picked it out for me, didn't you?"

Posy shakes her head. "No, I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Posy," he hears his mother ask, sounding a little guarded. "How did you make it a surprise?"

Looking pleased, Posy points to the pile of cards in front of her seat. "I sealed them all up!"

#######

After several hours of carefully opening all of Posy's sloppily sealed valentines, which she'd closed up without writing a single name on, not even her own, Gale had gone to bed, anticipating a day filled with off-key renditions of over-played love songs.

Chenille Shumard receives the first one of the day, 'Sugar, sugar', complete with a snickers bar thrown in, and it goes downhill from there. The teachers, for the most part, just up and decide that education isn't going to happen today, passing out crosswords for extra-credit and letting the madness overtake their classes.

Gale gets 'My heart will go on', sandwiched between 'You're Beautiful', and the first chance he gets he punches Thom in the shoulder as he exits his third hour.

"I hate you."

"You know you loved every sappy minute of it," Thom snickers, rubbing his shoulder gingerly.

Actually, Gale kind of does. He thinks it's hilarious, but he isn't going to admit that out loud, to Thom of all people.

"Do you know how much money you're wasting?" He decides on instead. Because Gale does, and he's appalled on Thom's behalf.

"It's for a good cause," Thom defends himself.

"They're awful!" How is it a good cause to support something that makes people's ears bleed?

"True, but it embarrasses you, and I consider that a worthy cause."

Of course he does. Asshole.

"Well," Thom sighs before letting another grin stretch onto face. "I'll see you at lunch. Enjoy your pre-meal serenade, compliments of The Beatles."

Great, just what Gale needs. Unless they sing 'Help!' he doubts they'll catch his mood at all.

Stuffing his book into his locker, Gale grabs out his next class's folder, a little rougher than he intends, and several papers fall out and to the dirt and leaf covered tile.

"Damn it," he mutters, dropping to his knees and picking up his papers.

Hidden in his homework, looking out of place and glittery, Gale finds the card Posy had given him the night before.

Standing up, Gale stretches his legs and starts to slam the locker shut when he hears Madge's voice come from behind him.

It might make him late for class, the halls are already thinned out to a trickle, but he thinks it's worth it if he gets to eavesdrop on her for a minute.

"And I've gotten three singing valentines!" Delly, wearing a loud sweater with glittery hearts stitched across the chest, is telling her.

Glancing out the corner of his eye as he pretends to straighten his papers, Gale see Madge nod politely, opening her locker and switching out her books while Delly continues to tell her about her exciting day.

"And I've gotten a box of chocolates, and Rhys gave me a card, and they called me into the office, and guess what?" She looks ready to explode, and before Madge can give her an obligatory 'what?' Delly has started babbling again. "I got flowers!"

Gale rolls his eyes. She probably sent the flowers to herself. No one, except maybe Rhys Mellark, would waste time with Delly. It makes Gale's ears sting just listening to her.

"It's just such a fun holiday," she carries on. "How many valentines have you got, Madge?"

Gale's ears, which had begun ringing, instantly clear as he strains to hear Madge's answer.

She doesn't, at least not at first, and tilting his head, Gale can see her fiddling with her books, rearranging her already tidy locker as she thinks.

"Not everyone is as popular as you, Delly," she finally says, her voice painfully even.

Not missing a beat, Delly throws her arms around Madge's shoulders and squeezes her tightly.

"Oh, Madge! You are popular, just, you know, a different kind of popular." She lets Madge go and beams at her. "Maybe if you were a little more…"

For a minute she struggles with just what Madge should be, then Madge supplies her own option.

"Loud?"

"I was going to say 'outgoing', but for you the two are one and the same I think," Delly says with a shrug. Her smile widens. "Just be a little more open with people and you'll have boys fighting for you."

Scowling at his locker, Gale does some unnecessary rearranging of his own.

Madge doesn't need to change, and she definitely doesn't need to be more outgoing. The last thing she needs, or more specifically the last thing Gale needs, is boys fighting for her. He likes her just the way she is, quiet and funny and not on any of the idiots in the school's radar.

She's perfect and Delly is too blinded by her own poor fashion choices to see that.

Listening to Madge's locker close as she and Delly vanish off down the hall, Gale glances over his shoulder and watches her skirt swish around her legs.

Once both girls are safely down the hall, and the bell for the next hour is precariously close to ringing, Gale looks down at the card still in his hand.

'Valentine, I think you're purr-fect!"

Nodding to himself, stealing himself for the exceptionally stupid thing he's about to do, Gale turns around and walks over to Madge's locker and carefully folds the card, blue-eyed cat face in, before slipping it through the grates and letting it drop in.

#######

Before lunch, Gale goes back to his locker and drops off his book, folder, and detention slip for being tardy, which really isn't fair. He'd walked in the door right as the bell rang, that counts as on time to him.

A little annoyed that he'll have to lose fifteen minutes of lunch the next day, he shoves his books in and slams the door shut before pulling out his phone.

'you're a dick, Lcewood,' he types in quickly. 'Call me maybe? no beatles'

Of all the songs he could've chosen, 'Call me maybe' has to be the worst. It's going to be stuck in Gale's head for the next week.

While he's waiting for Thom to reply, probably with a series of 'lol's, he hears Madge's voice behind him.

"Have you even started on that stupid paper for Ms. Trinket?" He hears her ask.

"Naw, I'll probably finish it next week," Mellark, of all people, answers.

Grinding his teeth, Gale listens as Madge's locker opens with a metallic click.

It takes a second, and at first he thinks she isn't going to see the card, or that maybe it's fallen out, to be swept up with the last of the fall's leaves and dry grass by the janitor.

Then-

"Peeta, did you put this in here?"

There's a note of surprise and confusion, in her voice, and Gale can't help but smile.

His smile dies, though, when he realizes Mellark is probably going to get credit for his card. The bastard.

To his surprise, instead of a smug, 'yeah, of course', he hears a bewildered, "No."

He can hear the frown in Madge's voice as she asks, "Well, then who did?"

Turning his head slightly, pretending to pop his neck, Gale spots a small smile on Mellark's face.

"Someone who obviously thinks you're," he takes the card and holds it in front of her face, "purr-fect."

Snatching the card away, Madge smiles at it. She looks up at Mellark, squinting suspiciously. "Who?"

Mellark shrugs. "I dunno."

Madge doesn't believe him, though. "Yes you do, tell me!"

She pinches his side and Mellark makes a wounded noise as he tries to escape, running down the hall.

"They wouldn't think you were so 'purr-fect' if they saw you now. Violent and paranoid," he yells, laughing, as he escapes down the hall.

She stands at her locker for a minute, her eyes alternating between Mellark and the little card, before she slams her locker and takes off, her bag slapping loudly against her back.

"Peeta!"

Gale's phone buzzes in his hand, pulling him back to reality.

'u enjoyd ur song :p'

Thom deserves to have his man card revoked for using that emoticon.

'dead,' Gale quickly types back before stuffing his phone back in his pocket, though his mood is too good for him to actually give Thom the ass kicking he so rightfully deserves.

Smiling to himself, he heads down the hall, back towards the Ag barn and his truck.

He may have another three hours interrupted with poorly sung valentines from Thom and a lunchtime detention to look forward to tomorrow, and he may not be getting credit for giving Madge that stupid little valentine, but it had brightened her day, and that makes the rest worth it.

#######

The next year

Gale comes up behind Madge as she digs through her locker, probably to find her botany textbook.

She makes a little squeaking noise as his hands, cold from walking across the parking lot after Ag, wrap around her middle and he pulls her flush against him, his nose nuzzling into her hair. It smells like strawberries and sunshine.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he murmurs against her neck as he presses a kiss just below her ear.

He feels her laugh.

"You already told me that this morning when you brought me flowers, and before second hour, and between third and fourth hour." She turns in his arms and narrows her eyes. "And you texted me it when you woke up."

"And now I'm telling you at lunch," he says with a shrug before leaning in, catching her lips and easing her against the lockers.

She obliges him for a minute, then gives him a gentle shove.

"Let's go. I made you some chocolate covered strawberries at Poppa's shop and I put them in the fridge at home. I want you to get some before my dad and Mr. Abernathy find them."

Reaching in her locker, she pulls out a folder and stuffs it into her bag.

Before she shuts the door though, Gale spots the valentine he'd slipped in her locker the year before. There's a crease in it where she'd folded and unfolded it, and the glitter has rubbed from the words, but she's still got it, taped to the inside if her locker door to see everyday, even if she still doesn't know who'd given it to her.

Gale smiles at it as she slams the door and spins the lock before taking his hand and pulling him down the hall. She certainly is perfect.


	26. Family Tradition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

December, Junior Year

Gale shields his face with his hand and tries not to hear what Pawpaw is asking Madge. Something horrible, he's sure of it.

It does him no good though, Pawpaw is so hard of hearing that he practically yells everything.

"Took you to Sae's place, huh?" Pawpaw chuckles. "Why did you say yes? If I'd done that with Harper she'd've knocked my teeth out."

As Gale makes a groaning noise and pokes his broccoli and cheese casserole, Madge laughs lightly beside him. Maybe she realizes his granddad is completely addled old man. She has an infinite amount of patience, after all, she tolerates Haymitch Abernathy. Crazy and annoying is nothing new to her.

"It was really nice," she tells him. Gale feels her give his knee a squeeze and he tries to keep his poker face intact. "I liked it."

"I think she felt sorry for him," Rory pipes in, as though he'd been a part of the conversation. Which he hadn't. "I mean, that's desperation in the flesh right there."

Pawpaw's bushy gray eyebrows bunch together in thought. Then he nods. "Might be on to something there."

Gale shoots them both a filthy look. Any hope Rory had of getting help with his science project when they get home just went out the window.

"Oh, of course she said yes," Meemaw says as she comes in, balancing a bowl of rolls on her hip and a pitcher of tea in her other hand. "Gale's just too cute to tell no. Just look at that face. If he'd just shave a bit he'd be on the cover of a magazine."

Just as Gale feels his face start to warm, his Pawpaw adds, "The ole Hawthorne charm." He nudges Madge. "It's what won Harper over."

Gale rubs his eyes. Pawpaw needs to let that lie die. It's nothing more than a fabrication of his age addled mind.

This is why he'd been reluctant to bring Madge to his grandparents' place for dinner. The older they get, the more embarrassing they get. It's like they've stopped thinking about what nonsense comes out of their mouths. It paints a bleak picture of what he has to look forward to with his own parents. Only his parents' health is better. They're going to be ten times worse. Harder to catch and twice as hard to keep quiet.

"But, pumpkin," his Meemaw had prodded him, giving him her most pathetic look. "I'm making my famous broccoli casserole. And we never get to see you anymore..."

If pouring on guilt were an Olympic sport, Gale is pretty sure his Meemaw would be a record holder for winning gold medals. She doesn't even try to do it anymore, it's like breathing for her.

"I'll ask her," Gale had muttered, rubbing his neck as he wracked his mind for how he was going to get out of it. On top of everything else, he hates that casserole.

"Oh good!" She'd almost shouted. "I'll make Ash get the leaf out of the barn."

At the time Gale hadn't understood why one extra person warranted making the table bigger, but a few days later, as he'd helped his dad crawl up in the top of the barn and search for the leaf, he found out.

"Olive called," his dad had said. No further explanation needed.

Gale hadn't even tried to keep from rolling his eyes.

His Aunt Olive was the flakiest person Gale had ever had the misfortune to know. She'd run off when she'd been in high school and shown up a few years later with a baby before vanishing again. Every few years she makes a phone call to her mother, gets everyone in an uproar about coming home, then doesn't show. Gale could set his watch by it.

The prospect of his Aunt, once again, disappointing his Meemaw, had made it glaringly clear to Gale that balking on his promise to ask Madge to have dinner with his nutty grandparents and his family, was out of the question.

Glancing over he sees Madge's puzzled expression. She's probably wondering if this so-called 'Hawthorne charm' had somehow skipped a generation, because her boyfriend clearly hadn't inherited any of it, and neither had Rory. Vick is still an unknown, but the odds aren't looking too good.

"Oh, Silas," Meemaw chuckles and swats at him. She gives Madge a squinty, bright grin. "Did you bring any pictures from prom?"

Madge, apparently having, blessedly, forgotten those damn pictures, smiles as Meemaw plops into the seat across from her, between Rory and Vick. Meemaw pinches Rory's cheek, causing his face to darken when he sees Madge fighting off a laugh at his expense.

"I showed you the pictures, Meemaw," Gale reminds her, hoping to distract her from Madge, before taking a forkful of broccoli and rice to his mouth. "Remember?"

"He showed them to me on his phone," Meemaw reminds him, dismissively.

"That's how kids take pictures these days, mom," Gale's dad tells her...again.

"But you can't frame a phone," she points out, shooting Madge frown. "You understand, don't you dear?"

Madge coughs into her ice tea. "Oh, of course." She nods. "I'll bring them next time."

The smile that lights Meemaw's face could power several small towns. Madge has just made the fatal mistake of implicitly agreeing to visit again. Rookie mistake.

"That would be wonderful!"

Making a mental note to tell Madge that she's just bought herself an invite, probably to brunch or something equally fictitious, Gale gives her a strained smile.

Rory must see it, because he leans back in his seat and catches Vick's eye before batting his eyelashes in what he must think is a mockingly come hither way. Gale tries to kick him under the table, but he's too far away and only ends up hitting the middle leg with the toe of his boot. It makes a loud noise and his mother gives him a concerned look as he grimaces.

"You work in Herschel's shop?" Pawpaw ask.

Madge nods and takes another drink of her tea.

"Ash and I tried to come in a while back," he tells her before shooting Gale a glare. "Someone wouldn't let me though."

"We were gonna get ice cream," Gale's dad tells her.

"This one," Pawpaw jabs a finger at Gale, "seemed to think we we're going to embarrass him."

"Can't imagine why?" Gale mutters.

"You should've seen him," Pawpaw carries on, ignoring the dirty look Gale is giving him. "Kept messing with his hair. I thought he was gonna pull out some binaca."

Face burning, Gale shovels more casserole in his mouth.

"What's binaca?" Vick asks.

"It's a breath freshener," Gale hears his mom explain. "It's not really used anymore."

"Why would Gale need breath freshener, momma?" Posy asks as she tries and fails to shove half her roll into her mouth.

As his mother tries to dislodge most of the roll from Posy's mouth, Rory seizes the opportunity to enlighten her in his own unique way.

"'Cause he eats everything, Pose," he begins. "His breath is like a trash bag full of onions."

Choking on his broccoli, Gale fixes Rory in a deadly glare. He's dead. Gale doesn't care if he has to join his Uncle Levi, living in a travel trailer in the middle of the woods, avoiding the long arm of the law, it will be justifiable homicide.

"Madge must like onions them," Vick mutters, more to himself than anyone else, but his granddad hears and dissolves into a mess of wheezing laughter and coughs.

"That's the 'Charm' at work, boy!" He beams at Gale. "It's a family tradition."

Gale groans and covers his face.

Even if it is a family tradition, he hopes it's one his own dad lets go of. Maybe they can replace it with a new tradition. One that involves Rory and Pawpaw never speaking in front of anyone, possibly ever again.

That's a tradition Gale can get behind.


	27. Family Tradition, again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Easter, Junior Year

"Are you sure you're okay with me going to Gale's family's lunch?" Madge asks her dad, for the thousandth time.

He smiles easily, patting her hand. "Of course, Pearl. We've got dinner worked all out."

Madge bites her lip, still worrying, but her mother smiles at her from across the counter, where she's smoothing out fudge beside Poppa.

"Gale's such a sweet boy, love. Maybe he can have dinner with us," she tells her airily.

Her Poppa nods, causing his glasses to slip down the bridge of her nose. "He likes chocolate covered strawberries, doesn't he? I can make some."

Giving them a tense smile, Madge shakes her head. Gale is going to be stressed enough with Madge coming out to see his family again. Springing a dinner with hers on him might give him an ulcer.

"Maybe on another day."

Looking down, she smoothes out her dress.

It's a little plain, but the neckline is high enough that Gale's brothers won't spend the entire afternoon staring down it, which despite their best efforts, she's seen them doing the last few times she's been out. Not her nicest outfit, but it'll do.

Gale hadn't wanted her to come out for Easter. Mostly because he's sure his family is conspiring to embarrass him into an early grave.

"I don't know what's wrong with them," he'd complained, after Rory had made a not so subtle boob joke on a ride home. "They live to annoy me."

Much as Madge would've liked to comfort and him that his family wasn't out to get him, she couldn't say that with total certainty, at least not about Rory, anyway.

"Everyone's family is embarrassing, Gale," she'd finally assured him.

Hers certainly was.

She's relieved that Gale hadn't started their relationship by meeting her mother. Seeing what Madge's future might look like probably would've ended them before they even started.

Still, her mother doesn't make lewd comments or gape openly at Gale, so she supposes on that front she's doing slightly better than his brothers.

A soft knock echoes through the room, and Madge can make out Gale's silhouette through the glass on the backdoor.

Her dad winks at her before walking to it and opening it up.

Gale is standing on the back porch, his hair battled into something resembling what his mother would call 'respectability' and his face clean shaven, also probably his mother's doing.

He gives Madge's dad a weak smile.

"Hi, Mr. Undersee."

"It's Daniel," her dad reminds him, gesturing for him to come in.

Madge hears her mother sigh. "He looks so handsome."

Face bursting into flames, Madge almost runs to the door, grabbing Gale's hand. "We should probably get going."

Before her mother says something loud enough for Gale to hear.

"I'll have her back before dinner," Gale tells her dad, nodding as though he'd been asked.

Her dad smiles benignly. "I know you will."

Giving her dad a kiss on the cheek, Madge waves over his shoulder. "Love you, see you tonight."

Yanking Gale, they almost fall down the back steps, then across the backyard and to his truck.

Smiling brightly, she pops up once they're both in the cab, and kisses his strangely smooth cheek. "Let's go."

#######

Gale takes a deep breath certain he's about to expose his girlfriend to more concentrated insanity than she can bear.

"If you want to turn back…" He trails off, hoping she'll say 'stop the truck' and 'let's go back to my house and watch Arrested Development', but she just laughs.

"Come on, Gale," she gives him an encouraging smile. "Your family isn't that bad. I mean, you've met my mother, I have a high tolerance to crazy."

Gale thinks that his family makes her mother look like the picture of composure and self-control. She's one woman, he's got his brothers, sister, both grandparents, and possibly even his nutty Uncle Levi. Up against that, Madge's mother is a delight, even if she says odd things occasionally. It's a kind of sweet weird, as opposed to the kind that makes you want to enter the witness protection program.

Grunting, Gale grips the steering wheel tighter and tries to think of a reason to turn back.

"I mean, it is Easter. It was nice of your parents to let you come out with me, but-"

"Gale," Madge cuts him off, giving him a small smile, "I already told you. They said we could have Easter dinner instead of lunch. It's fine."

Stomach rolling, Gale nods.

Thirty minutes later and he still hasn't come up with a reason for Madge to suddenly not want to have Easter lunch with his family. He even considers faking appendicitis, but decided against it. An afternoon in the emergency room might seem more appealing than having his granddad embarrass both him and Madge, but between her Poppa and her mother, he thinks Madge spends enough time at the hospital.

They pull up the drive and park under the old blackjack. No turning back now.

Opening his door, he hops out and offers Madge a hand, pulling her out with him and kisses her quickly. "I apologize in advance."

He'd given both his brothers an hour long lecture about not looking down her shirt or saying anything crude, but he has absolutely no sway over his granddad. Actually, asking his Pawpaw to tone it down would all but guarantee he'd make an even bigger ass of himself. There was no winning that battle.

"You know, Meemaw will probably bring up great-grandkids," Rory had reminded him, smiling obnoxiously.

"Madge will still be in high school." And Gale would rather not be a dad anytime soon. He doesn't want to revisit the conversation he'd had with his parents when he and Madge had started dating. Ever.

An 'I warned you' groan isn't how he wants the announcement that he's going to be a father to be met.

Besides, their cousin Hetty already had a couple of kids, even if they pretty much only see them on Leap Years. That should keep his grandparents happy for a while.

Gale could do without seeing all of his cousins less, but that's too much to hope for.

Madge just rolls her eyes, ignoring his pitiful looks, and tugs him toward the house.

In the back of the house, Posy is already searching for eggs, several clanking together in her pink basket as she runs up to Gale and Madge.

"Hi, Madge. Gale, one of my eggs had a money in it!" She holds it up to prove it, waving it above her head.

The Easter Bunny had clearly adjusted for inflation. Posy had a dollar, Gale only remembers quarters when he'd been egg hunting age. He'd also had to wrestle eggs out of his cousins' grubby hands. She's doing less work for a much better pay off, the blessing of being the youngest he supposes.

"That's great, Posy."

Grinning, she runs off, lunging into their dad's lap and causing him to drop his deviled egg in the grass.

Madge tightens her grip on Gale's hand, as if sensing he's considering bolting, and pulls him toward the table.

His Meemaw has put her best tablecloth out, a ham at the center and plates of deviled eggs scattered from end to end. How she expects them to each that many eggs, he isn't sure, but he hopes his mother doesn't volunteer to take any home.

"Oh, Madge!" His Meemaw coos, jumping up and grabbing Madge, pulling her into a hug. "You look just adorable, doesn't she Si?"

Gale covers his face as his Pawpaw whistles loudly. So it begins.

"Let me go get you a drink. Sweet tea okay?" His Meemaw asks before flittering off, not waiting for an answer.

Vick is already sitting, picking the yellow center from his egg, his nose wrinkled up.

"Don't like the filling?" Madge asks as she drops into the seat beside him.

His answer is a gagging noise.

"I'm glad your parents let you come out," Gale's mother tells her as she offers her the basket of rolls.

Madge shrugs. "Oh, it wasn't a probl-"

"And where did this dish come from?" A deep voice asks from the backdoor.

Grimacing, Gale looks to his dad for confirmation that one of his worst fears has come to pass. Uncle Levi has emerged from his travel trailer deep in the woods to annoy the family for yet another holiday. Fantastic.

Maybe they'll get lucky and he'll have a warrant out for his arrest. Gale should go in and call the local tip line just in case.

When Gale had asked his dad, years before, what was wrong with Uncle Levi, his dad had just sighed.

"Nothing we can pronounce, I'm sure."

Aside from living 'off the grid', which Gale gets the feeling has more to do with avoiding taxes and all adult responsibility than anything else, his uncle is involved with what his dad calls 'sketchy' people.

"He makes Olive running off with that bass player seem well grounded," he'd complained when Levi had called and asked for bail…again.

"Well, aren't you pretty," Uncle Levi says as he walks over to the table, beer in hand, giving Madge a drunken smile. "What are you doing with Gabri-Gale? You're way too cute for him."

Gale almost groans. He hates that nickname, even more since Uncle Levi had passed it on to Thom.

Smile straining, Madge just gives him an uncomfortable laugh.

"Levi!" Meemaw swats his shoulder and shoves him out of the way and deposits a glass in front of Madge, the ice rattling loudly. "Ignore him."

Gale almost adds, 'he's drunk', but that seems pointless. Madge lives next to Haymitch Abernathy, she knows a drunk when she sees one.

Uncle Levi plops with a groan, into the seat beside Gale, leaning onto the table and grinning at Madge.

"I'm Levi," he tells her, reaching past Gale and offering her his hand. He elbows Gale in the side as he sits back, mouthing the question 'how did you land that?' as he does.

Gale bites his tongue and ignores him.

Rory, who has apparently been hiding eggs for Posy, collapses into the chair across from Madge. He smiles for a second, before his eyes drop, then he scowls, his bright spot for the day clearly ruined by modest neckline.

Granted, Gale's bright spot is pretty much ruined for the same reason, but the disappointment on Rory's face almost makes it worth it.

"Posy! We're starting lunch!" Gale's dad yells across the yard, to where Posy is trying to crawl under some forsythia to retrieve a brightly colored egg.

As Meemaw goes back in, to get 'just one more thing', Uncle Levi's eyebrows knit together.

"Olive not coming?"

Pawpaw crosses his arms and scowls at the table, grunting. "No. Matt called and said she and Antonio are still hiking the Andes or some crap." His face wrinkles further. "For all we know she fell off a mountain."

"Dad…" Gale hears his dad sigh.

Uncle Levi mumbles. "Doubt that. We aren't that lucky."

Thankfully, Pawpaw doesn't hear that particular comment.

"Matt said he and the other kids are just gonna stay home, so we're it." Pawpaw grumbles, before adding, "And don't mention any of this in front of your mother. She had a fit over it last night."

And he's clearly keen to avoid another.

Looking over at Madge, Gale stifles a laugh.

"Not that bad huh?"

She just rolls her eyes.

#######

Gale's Uncle Levi is nice, but, just as Gale had warned her, he's also a bit of a lush.

Before lunch ends, he's drank at least a six pack, and there's no telling how many he'd drank before.

"You should come hunting with us," he tells her as he mops up his gravy with a roll.

Gale shakes his head. "No."

Levi, cover's Gale's mouth. "Ignore him. He just doesn't want you to see what a lousy shot he is."

Pushing his hand down, Gale huffs. "Me? You haven't gotten a buck in nine years!"

Rory nods from across the table. "And you hit that one with your truck."

Glaring, Levi picks up a deviled egg and flings it at Rory's head, but his aim, just as Gale had implied, is woeful, and Rory doesn't even have to dodge it.

"Wow, Uncle Levi, good shot," Rory deadpans.

"No wonder you used your truck," Vick adds quietly.

Waving them off, Levi turns his attention back to Madge.

"Has he even shown you how to shoot?"

Gale hasn't, but not for lack of trying.

"I don't like guns, Gale," Madge had told him, when he'd offered to take her turkey hunting back in the fall. "Plus, I don't think I could kill anything."

Not with a regular gun, not with black powder, not with a bow, not even with her car. She can't do it.

Just watching Gale clean his kills made her feel like losing whatever she'd eaten last. She'll stick to prepackaged, lazy food, thank you very much.

Plus, when she'd gone fishing, she'd nearly had a heart attack when Vick's catch had flopped on her foot, almost sending her into the muddy lake water to escape the mad catfish.

"Madge doesn't like shooting," Rory informs Levi. "And Gale's lucky she's taken pity on him, he isn't going to make her do anything she doesn't want to."

Gale's dad attempts to cover his laugh with a garbled cough, earning him a glare from his wife.

"Well, he isn't wrong," Gale's grandpa snickers.

Levi gives Madge another look over. "Yeah, you're way too pretty for him." He leans over, in front of Gale conspiratorially. "You're not pregnant are you?"

"Levi!" Both Gale's mother and grandmother shout, their color darkening.

"What?" Levi frowns, taking another drink of his beer. "That's how Ash got Hazelle. Like father like son, right?"

Madge hears a soft thud at the end of the table, and looks down to see Mr. Hawthorne gently banging his head against his placemat while his own dad just nods, as if to say 'well, yeah'.

"That isn't-that-Levi!" Mrs. Hawthorne glares at him.

Vick is speechless, but Rory isn't. His eyes flicker up, as he mentally tabulates something, then they widen as he apparently confirms his uncle's words. His mouth moves, and Madge makes out the words 'how did I miss that?' before he folds his arms over the table and grins. "Go on, Uncle Levi."

"Don't you dare," Mrs. Hawthorne growls.

She narrows her eyes on him, and after only a few seconds, Levi slumps back into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest sullenly.

"As the only Hawthorne that's got out of high school without a kid on the way, I think I should be allowed to brag about it."

"That isn't bragging, Levi," Mr. Hawthorne mutters, face still to the table.

An awkward silence settles over the table, and Madge tries to keep her eyes down. She really doesn't want to look at either of Gale's parents at the moment, and she doubts they want her to look at them either.

She supposes she could make them feel better by airing her own family's dirty laundry, which is much more complicated and scandalous than any teen pregnancy, but decides against it. It's a little nice having the more functional family, at least for a little while.

Reaching over, she pats Gale's knee, and when he looks up, she gives him a reassuring smile.

He grimaces. "Is your tolerance to crazy being put to the test yet?"

Madge snorts. "Not even close."

#######

"So I guess you're gonna want to avoid Hawthorne family holidays from now on, right?" Gale asks once they're safely in the truck, escaping his family and their squabbling.

Actually, compared to past holidays, when then entire family had been present, it had gone fairly well. Drunken admittance that Gale was the second Hawthorne grandchild to be born to parents that had barely escaped high school aside. No one had stomped off to another continent this time at least. Well, no one that hadn't already stomped off to another continent that is.

"That was tame, Gale," Madge laughs. She leans into him and smiles up. "The cops didn't even show up."

He isn't sure is she's saying it could've been worse or comparing it to something that's happened at one of her family events, but since he can't imagine her parents, absent as they often are, getting embroiled in something that would require law enforcement, he assumes the former.

Snuggling further into his side, and making concentrating on driving increasingly hard, Madge snorts.

"Well, one good thing did come out of it," she tells him, grinning up at him. "Your Uncle Levi now knows he isn't the only Hawthorne to make it out of high school without a 'kid on the way'." She waves her hand over her stomach. "Only a couple of months to go, and no baby. Congratulations."

Gale rests his cheek against her hair, catching a whiff of her strawberry shampoo. "Well, my cousin Matt already beat me to that."

Or so he claims, anyway.

"Maybe next time your Aunt Olive and your cousins will come."

Dear god, Gale hopes not.

Uncle Levi is bad enough, Gale's cousins are the absolute worst, and Olive and Antonio make Madge's parents' frequent absences look like the stuff 'parents of the year' are made of.

"I'd rather take Rory and Vick to a strip club than expose you any more of my family."

Or maybe he can just cut a deal with Madge's dad to have him tell her she can't come to anymore of his family functions.

Her tolerance might be high, but his isn't. He isn't doing that again.

Ever.


	28. Must be cried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Spring, Junior Year

When Madge doesn't come to school on Monday Gale knows something is wrong.

Her mother had come home from rehab just the month before and sometimes Madge skipped school on what she called 'bad days', to keep her mother company. Their neighbor, Mr. Abernathy, helped too, but seeing as he's a raging alcoholic, Madge tries not to depend on him too much. She always texts Gale before she skips though, asking him to pick up her homework, so she doesn't get behind in class.

When he sees Peeta in the halls between first and second hour he stops him. "Hey, you heard from Madge?"

Peeta frowns, shakes his head, "No. She not text you?"

Gale's lack of response makes Peeta's frown deepen. "Maybe she just overslept…"

Neither one of them look like they believe that line of thinking.

Gale tries to call her at lunch, texts her several times before heading back to class. A knot forms in his stomach each time he checks his phone and doesn't see a response.

The moment school lets out he heads to her house only to find it empty. They hadn't even locked the door when they left.

Stepping through the doorway he finds a mess, sheets and pillows have been strung along the upstairs walkway, just visible through the railing from below, a single shoe, it looks to be Madge's mother's, sets forlornly at the bottom of the stairs, someone's coat has been discarded, tossed without thought, into the normally perfect front living area. Something had rammed into the wall, taken a chunk out of the drywall, scraped a long line of paint off, and knocked one of the paintings to the floor.

The house, usually a careful façade of perfection, is nothing short of a disaster.

"Madge?" He calls out, not certain if he wants to hear her answer or not.

He's only met with empty silence.

As he's about to take a step, venture up to her room like an idiot, he should call the cops, clearly they've been robbed and god only knows what he's going to find upstairs, someone bursts through the door behind him.

"Gale!" Peeta, looking frantic and wild, panting, stares at him.

His heart stops.

Peeta rides with him to the funeral home. It's a silent ride. There's nothing to say.

It's silent when they enter the building, cold and empty. It smells of cut flowers and something ancient that Gale can't quite place.

A man, maybe Gale's father's age, comes out, looking appropriately somber.

"Good afternoon, may I direct you to someone?"

Just as Gale opens his mouth to tell the man with the soft voice the name 'Donner', a voice cracks with his name behind him.

"Gale?"

Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, her hair looks like she hasn't combed it since she woke up, which if what Peeta had told him was true, then she may not have. She's in a pair of running shorts and a wrinkled hoodie with one of her sloppy night shirts peeking out from under it.

Before Gale can utter so much as a 'hey', she's thrown her arms around him, has started sobbing into his shirt.

Gently, he guides her to a bench, lets her curl into his side.

Peeta drags another chair so that he's across from them, offers Madge a small smile, "Hey."

She lets a watery smile flicker to him, "Hey."

The air gets heavy after that. The three of them just sit in the hard seats, each one waiting for the others to break the silence. Both Gale and Peeta know they need to ask, that Madge both needs them to ask and doesn't need them to ask what happened. No one wants to breach the topic though.

Finally, Madge takes a shaky breath, swallows hard.

"His neighbor found him," She begins, her voice so soft Gale has to strain to hear it. Brushing her messy hair from her face, mouth downturned in thought, she sighs "They tried to resuscitate him but he was, um, 'down' too long. His brain didn't get oxygen for too long…"

Tears are leaking out the sides of her eyes, trickling down her cheeks like rainwater. Her eyes, puffy and shiny, are trying to blink them away. She keeps sniffling, shaking, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

She's lost. Her grandpa, who from what Gale has seen was the only constant in her life, is gone.

She looks so small.

Peeta stands, wipes his face in his shirt before speaking, "I'm going to go get you a coke, okay?"

He doesn't wait for a response and Madge doesn't make any noise of acknowledgement as he leaves, off to find a vending machine somewhere, leaving Gale wondering if funeral homes even have snack machines.

Gale runs his hands through her tangled hair, smoothes it out in the back.

Then her face crumples again, the tears quicken, and garbled, chocking noises come from her throat.

He isn't sure what to do, he's never been good with crying people, and for a second he considers yelling for Peeta. He's much more capable at this than Gale.

Probably those magazines he's always reading.

Before he can yell, though, Madge has slumped over into him, has started soaking his shirt with her tears and snot again.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around her, pulls her into his lap and tightens his grip on her. He buries his face in her hair, inhales the fading scent of her shampoo as he murmurs nonsense to her. It doesn't seem to matter what he says, just the vibration of his voice, the soft timbre, seem to sooth her, make her sobs a little less painful.

"He was doing so well," she murmurs hoarsely, once the worst of the crying has stopped. "He was walking every day. He was eating better." Her voice breaks. "We were supposed to go to the farmers market this weekend. Why would this happen?"

She isn't sobbing anymore, but Gale can feel her tears still coming steadily down, further soaking his shirt.

He wishes he had an answer.

Her grandfather was old, he was sick, everyone dies eventually, but telling her those things won't help. She doesn't really need answers, she just needs to be held.

He barely knew her grandpa, but he was nice, and he was always there for her. That made him a good guy in Gale's minds.

"What am I going to do without my Poppa?"

Madge takes a shuddering breath, rubbing her nose, a few more tears slipping down her cheeks from her red rimmed eyes.

He feels something wet on his face, reaches up and smears some moisture across his cheek. Why is he crying?

Instead of trying to figure out why his body was overreacting, mimicking Madge's tears, he pulls her tighter to his chest, presses a kiss to her head. He starts to tell her that it'll be okay, but stops. He doesn't know if it will.

#######

Madge doesn't want to leave Poppa, but he's gone. There's nothing left to do for him.

It had been a long twenty-four hours.

She'd gotten home from school the day before, had dinner with her mother and Mr. Abernathy, pizza, then they made ice cream, banana and pecan, before going up to bed.

When midnight had rolled around, Madge had woken as she often did, thirsty for a glass of water, so she'd quietly padded into the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Her late night routine had recently started including checking on her mother, only recently back from her latest stint in rehab, so as she headed to her own room she opened the door to her mother's room and peeked in.

It was dark and cool, just the way her mother had always liked it, and Madge had to squint to see her.

Ever since she'd been very small, since she'd once found her mother passed out and barely breathing one afternoon in the living room, she'd checked her mother's breathing. It was a comfort, to see her chest rise and fall.

As she squinted, let the dark outline in the bed come into focus, she held her own breath until her mother let out a deep sigh.

She'd just barely made it back to bed when the phone had rung.

It had been her Poppa's neighbor, frantically telling her that Mr. Donner was on his way to the hospital. They needed to get there.

Time seemed to slow after that. She's sure the phone simply fell from her hands, is probably beeping on her bedroom floor.

In a panic, she'd run to her mother's room.

"Mom!"

Madge had grabbed her mother's shoes, she was always forgetting her shoes. It had seemed like such an important thing to do at the time, though looking back it was a bit silly. She hadn't even made it to the hospital with both.

They'd knocked the picture from the wall as they'd run, knocked things over and forgotten to lock the door.

Mr. Abernathy had come to his door, bleary eyed and crabby, but he'd sobered quickly, driving them to the hospital, breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

Then they'd waited, called Madge's father, who was out of town on business again, told him what they knew at the time.

"I'll get the first flight out I can, Pearl."

The doctor, white-headed and with a bristly mustache, came limping out shortly after Madge hung up with her father.

He sat her down, put his ancient hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that told Madge all she needed to know.

"I'm sorry," he started. "He was down too long. His brain went without oxygen…there was nothing we could do."

And just like that, Madge had no Poppa.

She had always thought moments like that, like the death of someone so monumental, someone so important, were supposed to be larger, not such a tiny thing in a hospital room with an ugly flower painting on the wall.

It felt painfully small, though.

Mr. Abernathy took the seat beside her, sat with her in the frigid emergency department room, sniffling and coughing as he tried to comfort her inconsolable mother. It could've been minutes or hours that they stayed there, Madge lost the concept of time, it simply drifted by her as the people in scrubs buzzed by, like a hive of hyperactive bees.

"I should call my dad," she finally said as she stared down at the phone.

She got half a dozen text from Peeta, and three times that many from Gale plus several calls, but she just didn't have the energy to answer them.

Clearing them off, she shakily began dialing her father's number.

A pair of weathered hands covered hers.

"Give it to me, Pearl. I'll tell him."

Mr. Abernathy gently pulled the phone from her clammy hands before standing, giving her a small pat on the shoulder, and walking out of the room, leaving her to her to her silently sobbing mother.

She wasn't sure when he came back, if he said anything to her, all she knew was he had plopped down beside her and pulled her into a bone crushing hug before she'd dissolved into a heap of tears.

They stayed in the room until the chaplain, a thin man with glasses too large for his face came and talked to them. Poppa couldn't stay in the morgue forever.

Mr. Abernathy made the arrangements, he'd probably discussed it with Madge's father, though he never says as much.

He took her to the funeral home, mostly because her mother insists on doing so. It's pointless, but there's something about following the car with Poppa's body, one more ride with him when there are so few left, that calms her.

"I'll be here," Mr. Abernathy tells her when Gale and Peeta offer to take her home. She needs to be away, even if it's just for a few minutes. "I won't leave her, okay? I'll call you when Danny-boy gets here." He pulls her into a hug, gives her a rough kiss on the cheek, "Get some rest, Pearl."

More than a little reluctantly, she goes.

They drop Peeta off at his house before turning up the street, the wrong way from her house.

"Gale, I thought you were taking me home?" She needs to shower, change her clothes, brush her teeth…

"You don't need to be there by yourself," he tells her firmly. "I already talked to my parents. You're going to stay with us tonight."

She covers her face with her hands before running them up into her greasy, tangled hair, "Okay fine." He won't change his mind anyway, "But I need to pick up some stuff."

"You didn't lock the doors," he cuts her a look. "My mother and Posy went and grabbed some of your things."

Madge feels her face heat up. Gale' mother had seen their disaster of a house, sheets and pillows and clothing strung down the hall, and Madge's room…the less said about the state of it the better.

She almost laughs at herself, worrying about something as silly as her messy house when her Poppa is dead. It's so pointless, so stupid.

They spring up, cascade down her cheeks. Her nose begins running again, shouldn't she have run out of snot by now?

God, she must look like a horror movie extra.

Gale pulls her closer, rubs his rough hand up and down her arm, traces a pattern with his fingers at her elbow. That, combined with the hum of his truck, the gentle rumble of the road under the tires, and her creeping exhaustion, lull her into a light nap.

The moment the truck stops, though, she snaps awake.

"Shhh, we're home."

No, Madge thinks, we're at your home.

Her home is falling apart, crumbling at her feet, had been for years.

He must pull her from the truck, lead her into the house, because she doesn't remember how she gets in. She's just suddenly in his kitchen, his mother, alive and warm, is hugging her, telling her she's so sorry.

Madge wishes it were more comforting, it just isn't though.

All the 'sorry's in the world won't make a difference. They don't make the ache in her chest any less sharp, make any of her thoughts less painful.

Still, she folds into Mrs. Hawthorne, lets her hug her and tell her she's 'going to be okay', even though Madge knows she won't, nothing will ever be okay ever again. She's sure of it.

Everything is in a fog, her brain has stopped working, she doesn't remember taking a shower, washing her hair or brushing her teeth, but she must've because her skin is moist, her hair is damp, smells like Gale's shampoo, and her mouth has a familiar mint flavor in it.

Hours pass, or maybe only minutes, she isn't sure, when Mr. Abernathy calls, tells her that her father is at the funeral home, tells her to stay at the Hawthornes'. They get some food down her, tomato soup she thinks, then try to put her in Posy's bed.

"No, the couch is fine," she tells them.

They try to protest, tell her it's too noisy, but she's so exhausted she falls asleep before they can convince her to move from their battered couch.

She wakes a little confused, unsure where she is, not really remembering the past day.

Then it comes back to her.

Tears begins silently sliding down her cheek, quickly soaking the pillow that's somehow found its way under her head. Pressing her face into it, she tries to muffle herself, keep from waking anyone.

The couch dips, though, a rough hand begins smoothing her hair then rubbing small circles on her back, "Shhhh."

Gale had somehow heard her. She hadn't been that loud, had she?

Looking over, she spots a blanket kicked to the ground in front of Mr. Hawthorne's patched old recliner. Gale must've been sleeping there.

She sits up, tries to rub the tears away, but it only makes more come. Shouldn't she have run out of them by now? God she's tired of crying.

"I'm sorry."

He looks exhausted. She's wearing him out with her problems and it just makes her already horrible day, night, whatever time it is, that much worse. He deserves so much more than to be her snot rag.

Gale blinks, his doughy looking eyes work on focusing on her before he scowls. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

There is though. So much for her to be sorry for. Things she can't even think about at the moment, her brain is so sluggish.

He sighs, a long, almost pained sounding breath, before pulling her into his lap, pressing his lips to her neck. "You need to sleep."

Tipping her over, he wraps his arms around her waist, presses her back to his chest and stomach.

It takes what feels like hours to fall asleep, her mind is too busy, running over all the signs she might've missed, all the things she could've done differently that might've saved her Poppa. There's nothing though.

Finally, though, she slips into a heavy sleep.

#######

She wakes to the smell of bacon, the tantalizing sizzle of it coming from the kitchen.

Madge forces her heavy eyelids open, squints into the pale morning light forcing its way through the blinds.

Gale is gone from behind her, his warmth is noticeably absent and her chest starts aching.

Afraid she's about to start crying again, she's done with crying, she rolls onto her stomach, buries her face in the pillow again.

"You okay, Madge?"

Turning her face, she finds Posy and Vick, staring down at her. They both have appropriately somber expressions on their little faces.

"I made you and your momma a picture," Posy thrusts a coloring page, something with flowers and fairies on it, at her. Someone, it looks like Vick, has written, very carefully and in very childish scroll with a pink crayon the words 'deepest sympathies'.

Vick chews his lip, mumbles something that sound like 'sorry' to Madge as she sits up and takes the paper from Posy's grubby hands.

The tears speed up, Madge presses her hand to her mouth to keep the garbled noises in, hopefully keep from terrifying Gale's youngest siblings, but it seems the damage is already done. Fat tears are already dripping down Posy's round cheeks, her little lip is trembling. Her face crumples, "I'm sorry!"

"You made them cry!" Rory, who's appeared from the hallway, shoots his youngest brother an accusatory glare.

"No I didn't!" Vick tells him, his nose scrunching up.

Madge tries to defend him, but her words come out as a sloppy, garbled noise.

Posy runs off, to the kitchen, Rory chasing after her, both presumably looking for one or both of their parents.

Vick stays, though, hops onto the couch next to her and sighs. His gray eyes flicker up to her, then down to his hands as they pick at the little sprigs of fuzz on his Thor pajama pants.

"I'm sorry about your grandpa."

They sit there in silence, breathing in the warm smell of bacon, for several minutes, before she feels like she can talk without dribbling snot and tears all over everything.

"Thanks."

Mrs. Hawthorne comes in, quickly shoes Vick into the kitchen before dropping into his vacant spot beside Madge.

"How are you feeling, dear?"

Like shit.

She shrugs, "Fine."

Gale's mother doesn't seem to buy that though, she pulls Posy's picture from Madge's grasp, sets it on the coffee table. "I'm sorry about that. She doesn't really understand."

She shouldn't have to. Madge thinks it's not something that someone Posy's age should have to process, it's barely something someone Madge's age feels able to process.

How can someone that was alive and well, planting a garden the day before, be gone?

Mrs. Hawthorne wraps her arm around Madge's shoulder, gives her a squeeze.

Putting her elbows to her knees, resting her face against the palms of her hands, Madge takes a deep breath.

A watery chuckle escapes her throat, she presses her fingers to her eyes and bites her lip. She needs to stop crying, it's giving her a headache.

Gale's mother wraps her in a tight hug and she breaks.

The sobbing starts again, her head pounds with each gasp, her lungs burn.

"Why did this happen?" It isn't fair! Her Poppa was her rock, what is she going to do without him?

"Shhh," Mrs. Hawthorne runs her hands through Madge's hair, gently pats her back.

She doesn't tell her it'll be okay, which Madge appreciates. It might not be okay, it might never be okay, it certainly feels like it won't ever be okay again.

#######

It's sunny the day of the funeral, which Madge finds strange.

She's miserable, her mother is miserable, shouldn't the world be miserable too? Her Poppa was well liked, shouldn't mother nature mourn him too?

Maybe, Madge thinks faintly, this is his farewell. Poppa is smiling, warm and sunny, on her as she says her final goodbye.

Her mother is broken, her tears are dried out, replaced with an empty stare and lifeless eyes.

Madge doesn't remember what the preacher says, she doesn't remember the songs played, she doesn't even remember the ride to the cemetery, it's all a blur of flowers and headlights.

The sun makes her dress a little too hot, and by the time the preacher dismisses everyone, Madge can feel her makeup melting away.

People trickle by, strangers pat her hand, give her hugs, tell her she's in their prayers before vanishing into the spring afternoon.

Her parents leave, but Madge lingers.

"I just-I want to say goodbye. I'll walk home," she tells them. "It's not too far."

For a minute her dad looks like he might argue, but then gives her a faint smile and kisses her cheek. He understands her at least, her need to be alone.

She stays rooted in her seat, under the canopy, on the plastic grass they'd placed under it, staring at the casket as they drive off.

Her body aches as she stands, walking over to the piles of flowers and plucking a carnation out.

"I'll press it for you," she tells him.

Tears start to well in her eyes again and she tries to blink them back, swallowing down a lump. Walking around, she looks at the headstone, at the name 'Herschel Oliver Donner' already etched next to 'Elsie Emile Donner'.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, Poppa," she finally manages to choke out. So much.

Something crunches a few feet away, and she looks up.

Gale is standing sheepishly just under the canopy, his hand in his pocket and his expression somber.

His hair is combed nicely for once, not in the wild tangles she's come to love. Hazelle had probably encouraged that. Madge wonders if she helped him with his tie too, now half undone, dangling around his neck loosely.

"Sorry," he murmurs. He jerks his head toward his truck. "Need a ride?"

Her dad might've told him her plan, probably had, but even if he hadn't, Gale probably would've waited for her. Despite the fact that she's done nothing but cry and ruin his shirts for the past few days, he's still here.

It finally hits her, as he waits for her by the fold up chairs, his hand combing through his hair, sending it back into its naturally unruly state, that he loves her.

She's known it, somewhere in her mind and in her heart, but it wasn't until now, that's she's put him through her emotional wringer that the enormity of that hit her. He loves her. When she's been up without sleep, is dressed in ratty pajamas, has cried to the point that her eyes swell shut, he loves her.

She love him too.

Smiling down at her Poppa's name, Madge rubs her nose and nods. "Yeah."

Slowly, she makes her way back to him, each step heavy, taking her a little bit further from Poppa.

By the time she reaches him, the tears have started again.

"Shhhh," he murmurs, pulling her into a hug, kissing her hair.

Wrapping her arms around his middle, she presses her face into his chest and inhales his scent, letting it sooth her.

"It feels like there's a hole in my chest," she finally whispers, her voice thick and sloppy. "It hurts."

Gale nods.

He doesn't give her the empty platitudes everyone else has been tossing her way, he's in a better place, heaven needed an angel, he isn't hurting anymore, it's going to be okay, Gale just holds her, kisses her hair and rubs her back. He lets her cry.

It's what she needs, and he knows it.

"Let's go get a snow cone," he finally tells her. "Strawberry cheesecake."

Madge nods.

Life doesn't stop because someone you love, someone important, even just to one person, dies.

Her Poppa is gone, taken in one small moment in an ugly hospital waiting room. His funeral is over, his life summed up in an hour, and now Madge's life has to carry on, even if it hurts.

"Strawberry cheesecake sounds good," she whispers back.

Gale pulls back, kissing her forehead before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her away from the canopy.

Madge glances over her shoulder one last time at the flowers, slowly wilting in the afternoon sun.

"Bye, Poppa."


	29. Ride a ride or two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Spring, Freshman Year

"Will you win me a stuffed animal?" Thom asks, grinning stupidly at the rows of ugly, stuffed monstrosities, hanging like kills from a sport hunt in the Kingdom of Caring.

"Win it yourself," Gale grunts, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watches the doors to the port-a-potties for Rory and Vick to reemerge.

He's already spent the day with them, plus Posy, but his parents had taken pity on him and at least taken her off his hands.

It's the Coal Festival, a weekend dedicated to the reason the town had even been founded in the first place. There's a Coal Festival Parade, old ladies selling embroidered hand towels by the chamber of commerce, cookbooks of the same tired recipes being sold for the hundredth year in a row by the historical society, food (mostly, and frighteningly, coal themed), and of course, the carnival.

His mother had been wrangled into working the laundry mats' booth, handing out hangers with coupons attached to passersby, and his dad was doing overtime for the District. Several roads had been flooded in recent rains and big bonuses were promised to anyone willing to work on the repairs.

"We could use the money," his dad had sighed, right before signing up.

That had left the job of watching his siblings up to Gale during the festival. Lucky him.

Posy hadn't been that bad. She'd made Gale watch the 'Coal Queen' pageant, which he hadn't minded as much as he'd pretended to. Madge had somehow ended up as the piano accompaniment for several of the girls during the talent portion of the competition, so he'd spent most of the awkward show watching her play, picking at her nails during breaks, and sipping on a melted snow cone.

Rory and Vick had more or less run around on their own, checking in every few hours, which had suited Gale just fine. They'd stayed with Chastity Shumard, who unlike her big sisters, had a little bit of sense, at least from what Gale could tell, so she kept them out of trouble.

Now though, as the sun is setting and the air is cooling, more and more older kids, people Gale's age, are coming out, and his parents want his brothers to stick with him if they want to stay at the carnival.

Getting agitated-how long does it take to pee?-Gale turns on the spot, glaring around for his idiot brothers.

"Maybe they fell in," Thom quips. "Or at least Rory."

Gale grunts an agreement.

His eyes widen when he finally spots his brothers, standing by the cheese on a stick stand with Katniss and, to Gale's utter mortification, Madge.

Katniss has been there all day, Gale has run into her a few times as she's eaten her way through all the food stands.

"They told me I hit my limit at the funnel cake stand," she'd complained. "How do you even hit a funnel cake limit?"

Gale isn't sure, but if anyone could, it was Katniss. She's a bottomless pit, even Thom is impressed by her eating ability.

"We should enter her in a hotdog eating contest," he'd said once, after she'd inhaled an entire large double pepperoni, Canadian bacon, and pineapple pizza one afternoon, polishing it off with half a dozen iced lemon cookies Mellark had given her sister for some reason. "Take this show on the road."

While the idea of showcasing his best friend's unnatural ability to eat any and everything was appealing, neither one of them wanted to broach the subject with her. Professional eating contests would have to wait.

While Madge and Katniss are friendly enough at school, seeing them together outside it is jarring, and if he's honest, a little worrisome. Katniss hasn't exactly got the best judgment, what if she mentions something embarrassing about him? That would be his luck.

At least she's got her mouth stuffed with turkey leg and deep fried bacon, even if she talks Madge won't be able to understand her.

His brothers on the other hand…

Taking off, Gale stomps towards the potential disaster, Thom trailing behind him.

"Oh, look at that," he snickers. "Your girlfriend finally got to leave the piano."

"She isn't my girlfriend," Gale grumbles. "I don't like her."

Thom rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and Katniss isn't hungry." His grin widens. "Maybe you should try taking your shirt off to get her attention, you know, like you do at school."

Cutting him a look, Gale grinds his teeth. "I don't take my shirt off to get her attention."

Yes, yes he does. It works though. He's seen her look. He's got abs that could be ironed on, no girl can resist looking at that.

He doesn't feel like arguing with Thom about that though, not when he's got to figure out how to get his brothers away from Madge.

Rory is telling a story, hands and face animated wildly while Vick double over and Madge gives him a polite smile. Great, probably something dirty. Way to improve the Hawthorne men's image Rory.

Stepping over a puddle and onto the ply board that's been put down to keep the entire area from turning into a mud hole, Gale weaves his way over to the stand.

"I've been waiting for ten minutes on you two," he growls, hoping he's kept the worst of whatever story Rory's telling from getting out.

Vick has the good graces to look ashamed, but Rory just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever, what happened? Did that girl you were flirting with get downwind?" Rory asks before looking back at Madge. "Gale's got some personal hygiene problems."

Gale actually feels his teeth crack. "This from the boy that has to be reminded to put on deodorant everyday."

Rory's color deepens and he mutters something, his eyes dropping to his feet.

"Madge, you look stunning, as always," Thom tells her, smiling widely, trying to cut the awkward atmosphere Gale and Rory have created. His eyes cut over to Katniss. "Katniss, you look…well fed."

Grinning, Katniss takes a bite from her turkey leg.

"We need to go," Gale snaps at his brothers. He needs to get them away from Madge as quickly as possible.

"Madge is gonna ride the zipper with me," Vick quickly informs him. "So we can't leave yet."

He widens his eyes and fixes Gale in what he must think is a pitiful expression, but Gale's had years of ignoring much better puppy eyes than Vick's.

"You've already ridden it seven times," Gale points out. "You're done."

And so is Gale. The last thing he needs is his increasingly perverted little brother sitting in a cage and spinning with a pretty girl. It's a recipe for disaster.

"But Gale," Vick whines. "Please?"

Madge, her smile strained, crosses her arms, pulling her thin jacket closed. "Look, Vick, I'm not really all that fond of the zipper, actually."

Vick and Rory both look horrified.

"But it's the best," Vick insists.

"Yeah, how can you not like the zipper?"

Madge shrugs. "I just-I don't like flipping on my head."

Gale nods, grabbing Vick by the back of his shirt and pulling him away from Madge.

Shaking Gale off, Vick grabs Madge's hand. "You'll like it if someone rides it with you."

Before Gale can stop him, Vick has pulled Madge away from the cheese-on-a-stick stand and toward the rides.

Rory quickly trails after them, leaving Gale standing with Thom and Katniss, glaring at their retreating backs.

"I take it you're staying here?" Thom asks Katniss.

She nods, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "I'm waiting on a dozen cheeses-on-sticks."

She shoots the food worker a dark look, clearly unhappy with how long it's taking for her order to come.

Shaking his head, Gale steps past them, following his brothers off the ply wood and into the heavily trafficked grass around the rides.

It's a little cooler in the ride section; there are no hot oils and deep fryers from the food to keep the air thick and heavy. There's cigarette smoke though, and as the sun sinks deeper, the smell of alcohol gets stronger.

The nightly concert has started, some local bluegrass band that Katniss will probably go sit and watch with her dad while she eats herself sick.

Before he can get to the line for the ride, he spots Rory, now leaned against the back of one of the game tents, talking to Chastity Shumard. Gale almost laughs at the sight of it. She's a good five inches taller than Rory still, clearly her growth spurt hit before his. It looks more like a little brother talking with his older, much wiser sister than a boy trying to get a date.

Ignoring them, Rory can ruin his own chances, Gale wades through the influx of junior high delinquents that have flooded the grounds, scowling at them as he sidesteps them and weaves over to the line for the zipper.

The line is moving fast, Vick and Madge are already almost to the front, Vick animatedly telling Madge something that's making her cringe. Gale strains to hear.

"-and Gale used to take girls on this 'cause he said it made their boobs flop around," Vick informs her seriously. "So you should probably hold onto yours."

How exactly Madge is supposed to hold onto her boobs, Gale isn't sure, but he prays his brother doesn't offer to hold onto them for her. That would be his luck.

Madge nods, her grimace still on her face, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

Right before Gale gets to them, Vick starts chattering again.

"Gale likes boobs," he tells her, popping up on his toes to look towards the front of the line. "Him and Thom talk about them a lot." He gives her pained expression a bright smile. "Yours are nice."

Smile straining, Madge nods again. "Oh, thanks."

The ride grinds and Madge's eyes cut to it anxiously.

"Vick, can't we get on another ride?" She forces a smile. "It's just, they take these things down and throw them up, and what if they missed a bolt or didn't tighten something up enough-"

She looks a little winded. Clearly the thought of dying on a flying metal deathtrap in a small town festival is a little distressing to her.

Vick just smiles. "Don't worry about that. The worst that's ever happened to Gale was he got stuck on the Ferris Wheel with some girl from Seven Pines."

Gale grimaces, remembering that particular date.

It wasn't that the ride got stuck, which should've been an easy opportunity to make out, it was that his date was a complete lunatic.

"She tried to crawl out," Vick tells Madge. "They had to call the fire department."

That they had. Then they'd taken his date to juvenile detention. Turned out, public drunkenness is bad when your underage, even more so when you assault a cop and grope a fireman.

Not one of his better dates, especially since Johanna had been his ride. That had been an awkward call to his parents to get them to come pick him up.

Before Vick can say anything else, god only knows what Gale might've slipped and said to his jackass friend while his brother was snooping around, and he honestly doesn't want his amazing dates all ingrained into Madge's nightmares, Gale pushes through the kids and clamps a hand over his brother's mouth.

"We need to get home." Vick has caused enough damage for one night.

Vick pulls his hand down. "But Gale, we're at the front of the line."

Sure enough, the man is waving them forward.

Pulling away from Gale, Vick grabs Madge's pale hand and pulls her toward the ominously open car.

The man in charge gives Gale a narrow look. "Getting on?"

Deciding it isn't a good idea to let Vick be alone with Madge anymore, Gale takes a deep breath and nods, pushing past the man and flopping into the car.

It groans, tilts, and Madge pales a little more.

The fit is tight, there should only be two passengers really, but Vick is small. The man is probably just letting it slide. Though, Gale thinks warily, if he lets one safety regulation fall to the wayside, what others has he ignored as well?

On that happy note, the man pushes the bar down and Madge grabs on, her knuckles white.

Slamming the door shut, the man gives the cage a shake and starts the ride.

Vick instantly starts rocking, and over the din of squealing teens and drunks, the grind and whine of machinery, he can't hear Gale telling him to knock it off.

It doesn't last long, which is, for the first time in his life, Gale thinks is a blessing. Normally he complains, loudly, about the shortness of the ride, but given Madge's increasingly nauseated look, he's all too happy when the spinning slows and Vick runs out of energy.

"See? That was fun, right Madge?"

He'd apparently missed her looks of terror during the ride.

As they slowly make their way to the wooden launch where they'd gotten on, to make the switch with the next victims, her color seems to seep back in and her expression slips into relief.

Maybe it's the blinking multicolored lights, or the strange haze that's settled over the rides, or the fact that she's squished uncomfortably against him, but Gale thinks she's never looked prettier, despite the sheen of sweat on her face and the way her hair has fallen limp from her ponytail.

She almost bolts over Gale to get out, her hand smashing into an unfortunate spot on his thigh, leaving Vick trailing behind.

Ignoring the burning on his leg, Gale follows them, away from the zipper and back to what passes as the midway.

Vick pulls Madge into a hug, his face pressing, probably purposefully, right into her chest. Little pervert.

"Thanks for riding with me," he tells her, his voice muffled against her left breast.

She smiles faintly, apparently unsure about how long she's supposed to let Gale's little brother smother himself in her boobs.

Finally, she pats him on the head and gently pries him off. "No problem, Vick."

Gale grabs Vick by the arm, pulling him away before he goes in for another hug, giving Madge a tight smile.

"Sorry," he mutters.

Madge gives him an almost unnoticeable shrug. Don't worry about it.

But he will. Why do his brothers have to be such little dirt bags?

He sees a long talk with Vick in his future about boundaries and not taking advantage of nice girls' good nature, because honestly, Vick probably doesn't realize what he's done. He's clueless like that.

Actually, he sees a talk between his dad and Vick in Vick's future. That's a relief.

Raising her hand, Madge gives them a little wave. "I need to go find Peeta. He's my ride."

A flare of irritation bubbles up in Gale's stomach, and he has to squash it down. He won't be jealous of Peeta 'Wanna coal shaped cookie Katniss?' Mellark.

Giving her a curt nod, Gale pulls Vick with him, away from Madge and more potential embarrassment.

#######

Gale's dad covers his eyes with his hand and sighs.

"I'll talk with him," he grumbles. He looks over at Gale's mom. "I thought we'd get a few more years before this happened."

How wrong they'd been.

Vick's desire to be like his big brothers, for better or worse, has pushed this little chat up by a few years.

"We should make him apologize," his mom says, taking a long, exhausted breath.

"No," Gale quickly tries to cut that thought off. He hadn't mentioned that the girl Vick had mortified was Madge Undersee, and he'd like to keep his parents from meeting her at all costs. Besides, it's over and done, as long as Vick keeps his hands, and his face, to himself from here on out, this can be nothing more than an embarrassing story to tell Vick when he's older.

Thinking better of it, his mom nods. "Yeah, probably right."

Sighing in relief, Gale gets up and leaves his parents to discuss just how they're going to breech this subject with their youngest son. It isn't his problem, thank his lucky stars.

Flopping onto his bed, he listens to Vick's rhythmic breathing and Rory's harsh snores, letting them lull him into the twilight of sleep.

Maybe next year his parents will ban both Rory and Vick from the festival. Then maybe he'll have a snowball's chance of not being embarrassed in front of Madge by a handsy sibling, maybe he'll even get to win her one of those scary looking Care Bear knock offs. That's romantic, right?

He doubts he's that lucky though.


	30. Taste the bright lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Spring, Junior Year

Gale grimaces as the small, spiky haired girl from Seven Pines shoves a girl from Newton, face first, right into the trodden grass. Then a whistle blows.

"I only touched her!" She shouts as the ref calls a foul on the play, to her and the rest of her teammates apparent disgust. "It isn't my fault she fell!"

Gale, and everyone sitting in the stands of Quarry's expensive new stadium, would argue otherwise.

"These Games are a little more violent than we anticipated," Peeta mutters, grimacing as the team from Quarter Beach practice some kind of elaborate, and somewhat violent, tactical maneuver. "We haven't trained them enough. We should've gone full pads at practice."

Rolling his eyes, Gale takes a sip of his watered down coke and pretends he isn't thinking the same thing. He can't look more concerned than Mellark. He refuses to.

Besides, they'd trained their team well, hadn't they?

Powder puff football isn't supposed to be this aggressive, but no one has apparently told the girls. They're practicing moves that Gale is pretty sure could put regular football teams to shame.

"This isn't a very good field for this," Gale had pointed out, eyeing the small, scrubby stretch of land the powder-puff games were being played on. "Not good for running."

Someone is going to break an ankle, he just knows it, and that would be the least of the injuries judging by the sound of it.

Apparently, a few years before, there'd been an incident which had caused the entire event to undergo a four year ban.

"I went with Matthew. It was nuts," his cousin, who'd shown up at his grandparents' house for Sunday dinner, had said. "Some chick from Double Quarry flipped out and this other girl from Quarter Beach flipped out, and then her hot boyfriend had to get in there and pull her off."

"What do you mean 'flipped out'?" Gale's mom asked, looking uneasy.

Birdy shrugged before waving her fried chicken leg around vaguely. "I mean, she lost her shit. Those games are intense."

"It's just a powder-puff game," Rory had scoffed. "How intense can it get?"

Judging by the grim look Birdy gave him, pretty intense.

"Let's put it this way, they only managed to stitch that girl's ear back on because someone pried it out of that lunatic's mouth." Her eyebrows pulled together in contemplation. "I think she's a bouncer now."

Gale had felt his stomach drop just a little.

It sounded delightful. Gale can't imagine why they'd banned this pleasant little get together.

"Are you, uh, participating this year, Phoebe?" Gale heard his dad ask as he passed the basket of rolls to Vick, always attempting to make small talk.

"Naw," she answered cheerfully. "Got a banned for espionage."

While Gale had been certain she'd been banned for simple cheating, probably spying on the other team, he didn't press the issue. He had Madge's safety to worry about.

Mellark had looked sick when Gale had relayed what he'd learned about the games' history with him the next day at school.

"I think I remember Emmer talking about that." He gave Gale a weak smile. "I thought he was talking about a horror movie."

Great, Peeta Mellark, king of comfort.

He'd needed someone on the field to protect Madge. A bodyguard.

"Katniss," Gale had sidled up by his best friend right before third hour, "why don't you join the powder-puff fo-"

"No."

"But-"

"No," she'd glared at him. "I'm not playing some stupid football game. I spend enough time with those girls in gym."

And that was clearly too much time if her expression was anything to go by.

"It's for charity," Gale had whined. "Madge is doing it."

"Only because Delly guilted her into it."

That...was actually true, but Madge had quickly begun enjoying herself despite the fact that Delly had more or less forced her to join in.

"Come on Catnip," he'd pulled out his hail Mary, "Mellark is going to be one of the coaches."

She'd picked at her purple folder, clearly contemplating his offer of no strings attached time with her not-crush. She was so easy to play.

"Fine," she'd finally relented.

Unfortunately, despite being in better shape than almost all the other girls, Katniss had somehow managed to sprain her ankle only two days into practice. She blamed Chesney, loudly, thought Gale thought she looked a little pleased with herself as Mellark had wrapped her 'swollen' ankle.

She'd still shown up to the practices after that, and probably would've come to the match if not for Prim catching a nasty stomach bug the night before.

Somehow, after seeing the wild looks in the competition's eyes, Gale doubts Katniss could've kept even herself from being eaten alive.

Despite Birdy's warning, and even Mellark's memories of his brother's discussions of the last set of games, they'd clearly underestimated these girls. Gale had hoped that the 'Great Ear Ripping Incident' had been an aberration and that those girls four years ago had simply been deranged.

Clearly, that had been the wrong assumption to make.

"I'm gonna see if there's a mouthguard in my truck," he tells Madge. If things get ugly he doesn't want her chasing down a missing tooth in the midst of a bloodbath.

There might be a helmet and pads too. He'll take anything he can get to protect her vital organs.

"I don't think I need a mouth guard," she snorts. Her nose wrinkles up. "And I really don't want to use one of your mouthguards."

Gale groans.

"You've had my tongue in your mouth, what's the difference?"

The blush that erupts on Madge's face almost makes the glare she gives him, silently promising him that his tongue isn't going to be anywhere near her mouth for a few days at least, worth it.

Mellark's vanilla coke makes a reappearance through his nose.

"You're a real Casanova," Thom half snorts.

Shooting his so-called friend, and Mellark, a deadly glare, Gale takes Madge by the shoulder and steers her away from the field maybe he can talk some sense into her.

"You shouldn't play." Great opening statement. Clearly well thought out and persuasive. He could lead an army with his skill.

Madge crosses her arms and arches her eyebrows. "And why not?"

Gritting his teeth, Gale rubs a hand over his face.

There are at least half a dozen reasons why he doesn't want her out there. She's small and every girl around the looks like they're power lifting champs. He saw one girl take a cleat to the face and keep going, despite the blood gushing out of her nose. There are members of the WWE that seem less intimidating than the girls from the Double Quarry.

All he manages to get out though, is his base fear.

"I don't want to watch you get hurt."

Gale can handle a lot, but the thought of watching his girlfriend getting pummeled by what he's pretty sure are extras from some bad scifi flick about Amazonians, turns his stomach.

Madge sighs, reaching out and taking his hand. "Gale, I'm not going to get hurt. It's touch football-"

"There's an ambulance here," he stammers, pointing roughly at the lazy pair of paramedics sitting at the back of their ride, awaiting the carnage. And has she not seen the madness going down on the field?

"It's just a precaution."

"Because a girl lost an ear here four years ago!"

Whether they sewed it back on or not doesn't matter to him.

He crosses his arms over his chest and chews his tongue, waiting for her surely brilliant response.

"No one is going to be biting off anyone's ear."

"Only because the cops are gonna have their tasers out to keep it from getting that far," Gale mutters.

Madge snorts, looping her thumbs through the belt loops of his pants and tugging him forward.

"I know you're nervous for me, but I promise I'm not going to get hurt." She smiles sweetly up at him. "And I think this is good for you. Now you'll get to know how I felt everytime you went out to play during the fall."

He scowls. "I was in full pads."

And he's been playing football since he was in diapers. She hasn't.

"Do you know about the incidence of brain damage from repetitive head injuries received playing sports? Football specifically?"

Gale rolls his eyes. Damn those special reports. Why does she always see the negative news programs?

"Full pads or not, it was nerve wracking to watch you out there."

"So you're going to play just to teach me a lesson?"

There are better ways to do that. He can't think of any at the moment, but he's sure there are.

"No," she shakes her head, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his middle and propping her chin on his still crossed arms. "I'm doing this because I started it. I want to finish it."

The gentle warmth of her body eases some of the tension out of his stance and he feels himself relax into her.

He looks down, trying and failing to keep his expression stony.

Madge's lips quirk up. "Will you still be my boyfriend if someone bites off my ear?"

Gale runs his tongue over his teeth and lets out a long breath. She isn't being funny.

"Yeah," he finally answers, deciding that pointing out how morbid she's being wouldn't do him much good, "but anyone gets your nose and this relationship is over."

She snorts. "Glad to know you have a nose fetish."

Huffing, Gale wraps his arms around her shoulders, pinning her to his chest and dipping down, giving the tip of her nose a quick kiss. "Just your nose."

For a few short seconds he contemplates lifting her up and carrying her to the bushes, distracting her with surefire moves until the games are over, but she must sense his mind working overtime and pulls back.

"We have to get back. Almost starting time."

Backing up, she grabs his hand and pulls him along, back toward the field.

"Gale, I have a plan," Thom tells him the second he sees him.

Groaning, Gale pinches the bridge of his nose. Thom and a plan, this is guaranteed to be a winner.

"Take off your shirt."

Both Madge and Mellark frown. "What?"

Thom crosses his arms, lifting his chin in an attempt to look important. "Hear me out, I've thought this through. Girls drool over this idiot. He takes off his shirt and they'll all be so distracted we can just walk through the match."

Before Gale can object, he's never heard a stupider plan in his life, and he lives with Rory, Mellark makes a strangled noise.

"Thom, that's...kinda insulting." He makes a pained expression. "Girls aren't going to quit playing just because Gale is standing around shirtless."

Gale nods, though he thinks he should be a little offended.

"Plus, it's as likely to distract our team as it is the others," Madge points out.

That seems a bit insulting, but when Madge gives him a small wink, he decides maybe it isn't that bad.

"Hmm," Thom makes a face. "Probably right. Chesney and Pressley can barely play volleyball when it's shirts vs skins. Gale toplesss might get them killed."

Delly runs over, her face pink and her breathing short. "They've announced the match. Us and Lone Vin."

Taking a deep breath, Gale almost feels comforted.

Lone Vin is rich, it's pampered, how bad can those girls be?

The answer is very. Very bad.

From the first whistle they're playing dirty.

One girl trips Chesney and another grabs Pressley by the back of the shirt, swinging her around and throwing her to the ground. They've paid off the refs, Gale just knows they have.

"TOUCH FOOTBALL!" Thom screeches. "THIS IS TOUCH FOOTBALL!"

That fact seems to mean very little to the referees, who seem about as interested in the game as they do in fashion, because they ignore foul after foul.

"Are you blind ref?" Mellark yells. "That-they're trying to kill us!"

Gale can barely stand to look. Madge has managed to dodge a few slaps, been dragged to the ground and stomped over by one of the opposing team, and he can see blood trickling down her arm, but she doesn't look even close to leaving the game.

Mellark is beside himself, holding an official copy of the rule book out and waving it at the ref, who gives it less attention than an annoying fly, and Thom is purple in the face as he yells abuses at everyone from the state superintendent down to the janitor. Neither approach does any good.

Just as Gale is about to run onto the field and snatch Madge up, he doesn't think he can watch her get stepped on again, they snap the ball.

Time seems to slow as the girls begin to move again.

At first it seems to be going about as well as all the other downs, which is awful, but then Madge breaks through the line.

She's always joking that she's not fast, just steady.

"Cross country is about distance, not speed necessarily."

Despite that, she's a lot quicker than she'll admit to. He's been watching her run for a while, he should know.

Holding his breath, he watches as she runs, her pale legs striding as fast as they can to get her away from the line.

Go, he thinks, mostly because his voice has stopped working, as Madge puts distance between herself and the other girls. Then someone starts gaining on her.

It's a tall blonde, she looks vaguely familiar, and Gale supposes she's pretty, the kind of girl he'd have gone after before he started dating Madge, but she looks vicious. Her face is pulled back in a snarl and her arms are stretched out, a wild animal about to take down his girlfriend.

When she's only seconds from grabbing Madge by the hair and dragging her down, the last person Gale would've ever thought to be his best hope comes barreling up.

Delly looks murderous. Someone had just shoved Bristol, sending her down and causing her arm to bend at an unnatural angle, and that had apparently been the final straw for the normally placid girl.

Her eyes are dark and her hair is wild, flying out around her head in a strange halo.

It reminds Gale a bit of a lion taking down a gazelle.

One minute the girl chasing Madge has a look of triumph on her face and the next she's terrified, captured in the adrenalin fueled hands of a teenage girl hell-bent on avenging her fallen comrades.

In the blink of an eye the scene speeds up. The two off duty cops that had been standing around, watching the refs practically gift wrap the game for Lone Vin, finally come to life and dive at Delly, trying to pull her away before she can rip off an ear, a nose, or possibly an arm from the other girl. She puts up a respectable fight, it takes both the cops and one of the refs to finally dislodge her from the other girl's now limp body.

"Cartwright is an animal," Thom says, unable to keep the awe from his voice. "It's hot."

Mellark cuts him a vaguely worried look. "You have some weird fetishes, man."

As much as Gale would like to watch Cartwright continue to snarl at everyone, like a demented, raving giant barbie, he looks toward the endzone.

Madge is already there, her arms up in victory, and he hears her yell, "Touchdown!"

When no roar of approval comes, her arms drop and she turns, her lower lip puckered as she tries to figure out just what happened while she'd been running for her life.

The look of disappointment on her features is too much for Gale and he runs to her, stopping just short.

"What-"

He dives in and scoops her up.

She's too stunned to do anything more than make a little grunting noise and hold on as he spins her a few times before depositing her back on her unsteady feet.

"You did great," he tells her, cupping her face and kissing her. "Best touchdown run I've ever seen."

Her expression is still puzzled as she looks past him, to where he can only imagine Delly is being read her rights.

"I guess you were right," she grimaces, rubbing a growing bruise on her arm, "I did get hurt."

Gale wraps her in his arms, sighing. "Yeah, but you still have your nose. We're good."

#######

Gale traces his finger over the purplish bruise that's blossomed on the inside of Madge's thigh. There's a scabbed area at the center, where some girl's cleat had dug in.

"I can't believe Delly got a ticket," she says again, her fingers trailing through Gale's hair.

"Hmmm." He can believe it. She broke that girl's nose, a ticket is a small price to pay.

Twisting, he buries his face back into the crook of her neck and inhales the clean scent of her shampoo, warm and damp on her skin.

"It's a shame they banned the games for another four years," she adds as Gale shifts them, getting them more comfortable on her bed. "I mean, they didn't even let the other teams play."

He shrugs. "Considering our game ended in a brawl that landed on youtube, they were probably just being cautious."

She nods, sighing.

It is a bit of a disappointment that the low brewing hostility between the towns had to boil over during something that was supposed to raise money for a charity, but deep seated hatred isn't something that is easily pushed aside, even for a good cause.

Madge grimaces as she pokes her thigh.

"Did you ever get this bruised during a game?"

He chuckles. "No, but I wore pads."

She narrows her eyes. "What about during practice?"

"Pads."

Her eyes roll. "I know for a fact you didn't always wear pads."

Gale pushes himself up on his forearms, grinning. "Really?"

A deep blush forms on her cheeks, down her neck and into the top of her pajamas. "Oh, shut up. Don't act like you didn't want girls to look."

"Not girls," he corrects her. "Girl. Just one."

The blush deepens on her cheeks. "Oh."

Grinning, Gale leans in, his lips almost on her ear. "Did you think I just took my shirt off for just anyone?"

When he leans back, she's practically glowing. Her eyes stay down, unable to look at him. "You went around like that all the time to try to get me to look?"

It's less of a question and more her giving voice to a very confusing thought, and that amuses him.

"I figured that even if I couldn't string a sentence together or be around you without making an ass out of myself, I could still impress you."

"With your six-pack."

"A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."

She snorts, her nose wrinkling up and her eyes squinting. "You are such a dork."

He is, he'll agree with her on that.

"You looked though." So he's a smart dork.

Her lips quirk up. "Gale, you look when you have your shirt off."

Of course he does. He's sexy and he knows it.

"Yeah, you never had a chance."

Resting his head against her chest, he feels her shake a little with laughter for a moment before settling down again, her fingers combing through his hair.

Lazily, his mind begins to wander.

"So what's the difference between using my mouthguard and kissing?"

Madge groans.


	31. Come on boots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
> 
> AN: Trying to get back in the swing of things, so if this is a bit off that’s why. I was trying to give Thom and Delly a bit more time, just to antagonize Madge and Gale, but I’m not sure how well it came off. Ah well. Sorry, as always.

August before Junior Year

There are some things, Gale decides, that shouldn't cross paths, no matter how dire the situation.

Hot dogs and mayo, teenage boys and half defrosted squirrels, red socks and white laundry, and, most importantly, Gale and Mellark's car.

If you could call it a car. It has a motor, four wheels, and it moves, but Gale is more inclined to call it a radio with seats and an AC.

It's all Thom's fault. If he'd just properly maintained his truck they wouldn't have had to call for a ride. Both their parents were at work, Bristol wasn't talking to Thom, and Katniss had apparently let her phone die...again. That left Madge.

Not that Gale minded getting a ride with her, normally it wouldn't be so bad an end to a day of fishing, but he'd known she was with Peeta 'I got my car at a go-kart auction' Mellark and Delly Cartwright. Spending time with the pair of them was less enticing than getting a root canal. At least he got numbed up for the dental work.

Still, it was either squeeze into Mellark's sissy car or walk home, dragging both a cooler of fish and his so called friend's body with him.

"Hey, Cartwright! How's it going? Staying on the right side of the law?"

Delly's pale face flushes bright pink.

"I have a court date." She shakes her head. "Destruction of property and evading arrest. Though on the bright side, that cop decided not to press charges so maybe the store will let the other charges drop too."

Gale isn't so sure that's how those things work, but he isn't sure, and since he doesn't want to dwell on Delly's Adventures in Accidental Crime, he keeps his mouth shut.

"Don't worry about it too much, this kinda crap only counts after you turn eighteen. Those records will be sealed."

Delly forces a small smile, though she looks less than thrilled at having a clean slate based on a technicality.

"I'm guessing there are a few sealed files with your name on them, huh, Thom?" Mellark asks as he opens the trunk for them to shove the cooler in.

Thom shrugs. "Yeah, me and Gale, but sadly none of our exploits are as glorious as Cartwright's."

Gale shoots him a look. He doesn't really need Madge or Mr. Perfect hearing about the 'Great District Line Beer Run Fiasco'. He's lucky he ever got ungrounded after that night.

For possibly the first time, Thom takes the hint and shuts his mouth, though Gale gets the impression he's going to need to be a little more explicit later.

Madge eyes the cooler with a frown. "Is it leaking?"

"It's sweating," he assures her.

It's hot as hell on Sunday and the heat from the faded asphalt is making it worse. He'd be more surprised if his trusty cooler weren't sweating it out.

Picking up the cooler, Gale tries to shove it in the trunk. It jams.

"Damn it," he mutters to himself as he tries another angle. No go.

"It's too big," Thom points out, less than helpfully.

"You think?"

If Mellark had an adult sized car this wouldn't be an issue…

Finally, after ten minutes of battling the sorry excuse for a trunk, and hearing his cooler make ominous cracking noises, Gale concedes defeat.

"Maybe you should try buying a cooler that isn't big enough to hide and transport a small human body in it," Mellark offers, his lips twitching slightly.

Grinding his teeth, Gale almost snaps that needs a big cooler because he, unlike Mellark, hunts and he doesn't want his food spoiling, and that it wouldn't be a problem if someone didn't own a recycled clown car. He manages to bite back those thoughts though, when Madge drops down beside the cooler and begins examine the dimensions. "Can we put it in the backseat?"

"Oh, I think so!" Delly squeals as she reaches down and takes hold of one of the handles.

"Cartwright don't that's heav-" Thom's jaw drops as Delly hoists the red and white cooler up without so much as a grunt.

Swinging it around, she shoves it in the back of Mellark's car and grins. "Perfect!"

"My god," Thom whispers beside Gale, looking equal parts awed and terrified. "She lifted that like it was a feather."

Gale starts to remind him they'd both watched Delly carry Mellark and Madge on her back while at a dead run through the mall before school ended, after the incident at the makeup counter during the 'reward trip' for good attendance and good grades. The trip that had resulted in Delly being banned from Macy's for life, and the reason for her impending court date. He doesn't though, and the fact that he ended up wrestled to the ground by mall security has nothing to do with it.

"Peeta said they tried to get her on the power lifting team but there's some rule about no girls," Madge tells him.

"Sounds like a Title Nine violation," Thom adds thoughtfully.

Gale rolls his eyes. "Since when are you such a law expert?"

"I did several papers over legal issues for my public speaking class, thank you very much" Thom tells him smugly.

That hardly makes him an authority, but arguing it won't get Gale anywhere. Thom-logic is insane and therefore unbeatable.

"Maybe I could argue your case to an appeals court," he offers Delly.

"Thom, I don't think-"

"Madge," Gale cuts her off shaking his head, "save your breath."

"Uh, that's okay. Thanks anyways," Delly tells him, forcing a smile. She quickly turns her attention to Madge and Gale. "I think you're going to have to sit on Gale's lap."

What a hardship, Gale thinks, fighting off a grin. Maybe Mellark's toy car isn't so bad after all.

They pile into the back of the car, Thom using his insane logic to win the door seat while Gale squishes himself in beside the increasingly sweaty cooler and settles Madge on his lap.

As soon as Mellark starts the car Gale knows no amount of enjoyment from having Madge on his lap will overpower the pain of having to listen to Mellark's hideous music selection.

"I love this song!" Delly squeals, turning the radio up and bouncing around, warbling like some kind of deranged backup singer. "Boots day, happy boots day 'n yonder!"

"Delly," Peeta cringes, "I'm pretty sure that's not the words..."

"Yeah, she's clearly saying 'whose bed have your boobs been under?' Even I can hear that," Thom tells her.

Gale doesn't care. He hates the song in all its incorrect incarnations.

He must make a face, because Madge pinches him, a silent warning to be nice to her friends.

"So, what did you ladies get up to today?" Thom asks as the song ends.

Mellark, who Gale thinks should be offended by being lumped in with the 'ladies' simply smiles.

"We bought supplies for Delly's Sunday school class. There was a sell on markers and glue sticks."

"I'm in charge of arts and crafts for the seven to eight year old class," Delly brightly tells them. "We're going to make decorated pinecones."

What exactly decorated pinecones have to do with church, Gale isn't sure, but he also doesn't care enough to ask. Delly and her newest project can stay a mystery for all he cares.

Madge shifts, causing Gale's hand to drop down on her calf. "We also bought supplies for angel food cake. Peeta and I were going to make one to go with all the strawberries my garden has put off this year."

While Gale isn't thrilled about Madge spending time with Mellark, a cake for the almost obscene number of strawberries she's gathered over the summer sounds like a good idea, especially since her attempts at canning had ended...less than ideally.

"Yeah, angel food cake would be the perfect dessert for our catfish fry," Thom suddenly says.

Delly shifts in her seat to look at Thom, her shirt going a little askew, which Gale is sure Thom enjoys a little too much.

"A catfish fry? Oh, and I can bring all the leftover chips from the last day of VBS!"

No. Damn it, has Thom just invited Thing One and Thing Two to Gale's family dinner? Thom had barely helped catch anything. In fact, he was more of a hindrance than a help. He has no right to hand out invitations.

"That would be a delight, Delly." Thom grins stupidly. "And while we're eating, maybe we can work out your appeal to be on the power lifting team."

Gale glares, first at Thom, then at the oblivious pair in the front seat, before Madge wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his ear. "Thank you."

She must've missed the part where Gale had nothing to do with the unplanned invitation, but if it wins him brownie points then he'll happily claim that he'd talked it over with Thom before calling for help.

"I can bring tulle." Delly's eyes widen, making her look slightly unbalanced. "And I have paper lanterns, and some streamers, and-"

"It's a fish fry, not an after party, Delly," Mellark gently tells her. "I think you can leave the streamers at home."

Gale never thought he'd want to thank Mellark for pointing out the obvious, but since it sounds much less irritable coming from him than it would from Gale, he supposes he owes the dork a little credit.

Delly looks disappointed, but her expression brightens again. "I can still make punch though, right?"

If it keeps her from decorating his backyard like a reject from a summer teen flick then she can bring all the punch she wants.

"Yeah, sure Delly."

Besides, his parents aren't going to let him drink the stash of beer Pawpaw had given him with half a dozen minors hanging around. Delly might as well put her punch making skills to use.

By the time they pull up to the gravel drive up to Gale's house, Thom has decided on Saturday at five.

"A farewell to summer," he explains.

"More like a wake," Madge grumbles. "Because I'm not really ready for school to start up again."

Gale snorts. He wholeheartedly agrees with her on that. This was his last summer as a high schooler, a kid, free, even though he hasn't felt much like a kid in years and he's worked every summer since he was twelve, mostly for his family, but still, work is work.

The last few months though, have been more like what he thinks summers should always be like. All his downtime spent with a pretty girl, relaxing and having fun, not feeling like a coil about to spring loose.

Madge gets most of the credit for the change in his perspective, or at least gets credit for making the less pleasant parts of his summer, like being saddled with watching his siblings, more tolerable.

"Whatever you wanna call it, gorgeous. I'm not picky."

Giving Thom a not so gentle nudge into the door, they finally get out of Mellark's bubblegum-pop-and-country's-greatest hits-mobile, which is nothing short of a miracle, Gale is sure he hears the beginnings of 'Barbie Girl' before Mellark turns it down to say goodbye.

With Thom's help, he pulls the cooler out, grunting as they nearly drop it on their feet.

"Seriously, Delly's some kind of weightlifting prodigy," Thom huffs, struggling to keep the sweaty handle in his hand.

Gale only manages to nod.

Madge pops on her toes and kisses his cheek. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow for dinner."

Does she really expect him to wait that long?

"Stay for dinner tonight," he tells her. "My mom made peach cobbler, and Rory is over at a friend's house."

That alone should entice her to stay.

"Peeta's driving me home-"

"I can drive you." It's Thom's truck that's a piece of crap, not Gale's.

"Yeah, you can help us clean the fish," Thom adds, once again, the opposite of helpful. "I'll show you how to sex them."

Wow, and Thom thinks Gale is the clueless one when it comes to girls.

Madge makes a disgusted face. "Yeah, thanks Thom, but I think I'll pass."

Giving the cooler a jerk, Gale manages to bang Thom in the knee, silencing him for a second and giving him time to convince Madge to stay for dinner.

"You don't have to help with the fish." Even if, really, he thinks it would be a good experience for her. "Thom and Vick can do it while I drive you back later."

He's pretty sure he hears 'traitor' and 'bros before hoes' hissed from behind him, but chooses to ignore it.

"Please." He had to listen to Delly and Mellark sing MMMBop. He deserves to drive her home, and possibly a make-out session, it's only right.

Chewing her lip, she glances at the car, where Mellark and Delly are bouncing around and singing something unholy no doubt.

Fine, he'll pull out the big guns. "My mom'll be insulted if you don't stay."

Rolling her eyes and giving him a little shake of her head, clearly letting him know she's perfectly aware of just what game he's playing, she turns and knocks on Mellark's back window. "Gale's gonna give me a ride home."

"Yeah he is," Thom whispers, just loudly enough for Gale to hear.

Shooting him a look, Gale shoves the cooler into Thom's knee again.

"Damn it!"

Grinning at Madge, Gale takes her hand and tugs her along, pulling a limping Thom and cooler along with him.

Maybe Gale should cross paths with Mellark's car. At least if the situation is dire enough…and Mellark gets better taste in music.


	32. Get me to the church

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too. I also don't own 'The Bad Touch' or 'Steel Magnolias'. Just a fan here.
> 
> AN: Okay, I apologize in advance. This is a chapter I've been working on in bits and pieces for a while (read: a year+). It isn't heavy on the gadge, which is why it's been backburnered for so long, but I had fun with the family members and the dynamics so it's getting to see the light of day. Family drama is my favorite. I grew up on soap operas, which rely on romance a lot, but I still loved the families and the history they gave them, so...yeah. And about 'The Bad Touch'...I know it's probably obscure now, but that song is definitely the one I'd play on repeat if I wanted to annoy/embarrass my family. Plus, it would definitely be a song Vick and Rory would memorize in seconds.

Summer, Junior Year

Gale tugs at the collar of his shirt, grateful he'd talked his mom out of making him wear a tie.

"It's just a wedding," he'd grumbled. "Besides, the tieless look is in."

She'd arched an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Nodding, Gale had swallowed his pride. "Yeah, Mellark said so."

It hadn't taken another word. Mellark's magical stamp of approval was all his mom needed.

Despite how he'd weaseled out of it, he's grateful not to be wearing it. A tie would just cinch in all the heat. Who plans an outdoor wedding in July anyways?

His ditzy cousin, that's who.

"Gale, don't mess up your hair," his mom hisses as she catches him trying to itch the back of his head.

"It looks good a little messy," Madge tells her. Gale can only hope it's to cover for when she messes it up later while everyone is distracted trying to catch a bunch of dead flowers.

She looks perfect. He'd told her not to try too hard, his family was hardly people he cared about impressing, but she'd dressed up anyways.

Her dress had looked so soft his hands had, innocently and entirely involuntarily, begun tracing patterns on it, which had earned him the prize position between Vick and Rory in the backseat, while Madge got pinned between his mom and the passenger side door.

"Watch your hands next time," had been her only response to Gale's mutinous glare.

His mom gives her a strained smile before sighing, eyes still on Gale's hair. "I know. I just want to make-I want us to all look nice."

"Why?" His dad's family is low class at its finest. Showing up in shoes and shirts makes them classier than half the people that'll be in attendance.

Between his uncle probably spiking the punch and skipping out early to avoid the cops showing up because of the illegal fireworks set up under the tarp in the back of his pickup, his granddad picking a fight with the groom's dad, and his Meemaw having an emotional breakdown when they say 'you may now kiss the bride,' he isn't sure who is actually going to be the biggest Hawthorne family embarrassment.

Heck, then there's still his cousins. They're definitely in the running. He's pretty sure they'll do something tasteless just for the hell of it. It's their style.

"I just do, Gale."

His dad shrugs, letting Gale know there's no point arguing.

"How long do we have to stay?" Rory asks, scratching at his neck, sweat already forming in his hairline.

"Just through the ceremony-Posy, don't lift your skirt up!"

"But I'm hot, momma!"

Gale sighs, blowing a cool puff of air up into his sweaty hair before he feels Madge link her arm in his.

"This is so pretty," she whispers, her wide eyes sweeping over the landscape.

There is heavy summer garland, decorated with gaudy tropical flowers, crisscrossing in a canopy over the gravel drive leading up to the house, which is decked out as well. Bunting is hanging from the balconies and across the length of the front porch.

They aren't on, but Gale sees twinkle lights twined into the endless greenery, probably in anticipation of the evening.

He supposes it is all kind of pretty, in an over the top kind of way.

"Eh," he grunts as his mom begins pulling Vick and Rory down the drive, followed by his dad carrying a very cranky Posy. "Won't be so pretty once the Hawthorne clan finishes with it."

Madge snorts. "Maybe I'll get to meet the whole family this time."

God, Gale really hopes not. If he has any luck at all, Hester will have decided against inviting her siblings and his granddad will have gotten lost. It would be a miracle.

"I'm serious, Gale." She nudges him gently, smiling brightly up at him. "I don't really have an extended family. It's neat."

'Neat' is not the word Gale would use for his family.

Having spinster aunts seems preferable to having an alcoholic uncle with a warrant out for his arrest and an aunt that decided 'Where's Waldo?' was her how to book for her life goals the minute she was eighteen.

"Just remember that when you end up covered in vomit paying bail for me tonight."

Her smile dims. "Why would any of those things happen?"

Gale shrugs, fighting the urge to mumble 'Hawthorne Charm' under his breath.

They've barely turned the corner when Gale hears someone yelling for them.

"Uncle Asher!"

Cliff, dressed in a black tux, bubblegum pink bow fixed firmly on his neck, smiles brightly, excitement bubbling over as he bounces on his toes.

He doesn't make eye contact, seemingly happy to look anywhere but at them as he grins.

"Uncle Asher, I'm an usher. I'm supposed to seat you."

Posy wrinkles her nose, squinting up at him. Gale's pretty sure she's never actually met him, Birdy is the only cousin they have that makes regular family visits. "What's wrong with yo-"

Gale winces as his dad quickly scoops her up, causing her to squeal, cutting her question off at the feet.

"That's great, Cliff," Gale's mom tells him, her smile a little strained, probably getting overheated in the afternoon sun. "Why don't you show us where we need to sit?"

Preferably, Gale thinks as sweat drips down his back, in the shade.

"Hey, Cliff," someone softly calls out before Cliff can fulfill his usher duties.

A man, thinner than Gale but just as tall, dressed exactly like Cliff, right down to the pink tie and carefully combed dirty blonde hair, comes up from somewhere behind a rose bush.

Matt's a few years older than Gale, friendly enough, but kind of a flirt. Gale's hand instinctively links with Madge's. It might come off as possessive, but with his cousin it's a necessity.

He flashes the family a weary smile before turning his focus on Cliff.

"Cliff, buddy, I need you to do me a favor."

Nodding, eyes still unfocused but clearly listening, Cliff straightens up.

"Uncle Levi is trying to put liquor in the punch...again," he tells him, sounding a little exhausted. "You think you can keep him from messing up Hetty's wedding?"

Cliff nods eagerly before pointing to Gale's family. "You have to seat them."

Clapping Cliff on the shoulder, Matt nods. "I'll do my best."

Without another word, Cliff scurries off to stop Uncle Levi from ruining the punch.

"Why make Cliff mess with Uncle Levi?" Rory asks, frowning at Cliff's vanishing back, whipping out of sight behind another rose bush.

Matt grins. "Cliff's relentless. Levi won't have a chance to scratch his butt let alone spike the punch with him watching."

Chuckling, Gale's dad hoists Posy a little higher on his shoulder. "Maybe we should hire him full time to keep an eye on Lee."

Gale snickers, imagining his uncle Levi trying to give Cliff the slip. Not an easy task.

He should've stayed quiet; his laughter draws Matt's attention.

"Is this Gabri-Gale's girlfriend? She's real? I though Meemaw was yanking my chain."

Grinding his teeth, Gale nods and makes a half-hearted introduction.

"ThisisMadge."

"What?"

Madge makes a face before offering her hand. "Madge Undersee."

"Matt Alameda." He grins obnoxiously. "How did Gale land you? Blackmail?"

Gale rolls his eyes as both Vick and Rory snicker.

"Gale is very handy-some," Posy quickly explains.

"The 'handy' part I can believe," Matt mutters, earning another round of giggles from the boys.

Gale's mom looks like she might be about to scold him, but gets cut off by someone yelling inside the house.

Emerging from the back door and jumping from the deck, wearing a dress every bit as hideously pink as her brothers' bow ties, Birdy comes toward them, her nose wrinkled up.

"Matthew!" She stops a few feet from the group, huffing and tapping a dirty barefoot. "Imma kill her!"

Matt groans. "What now?"

"She wants me in heels!" Birdy snaps. "Heels, Mattie! I'll trip and break my neck!"

If only, Gale thinks irritably. A snapped neck might end the ceremony early.

"I thought she'd decided flats were okay?" Matt starts to run his hands into his hair, but stops himself, opting to make a frustrated noise instead.

"She had, but then that woman started talking about how I was gonna make the bridesmaids look-I don't know-uneven." She flexes her fingers, probably visualizing strangling her sister. "I'm not that much shorter than her stupid friends! If she didn't want me as a stupid bridesmaid then she shouldn't have asked me. Then I wouldn't have to wear this stupid dress!"

Gale stifles a chuckle by pressing his nose into Madge's hair

Matt massages his temples with the tips of his fingers.

"I'll...go talk to her." He gives Madge a small smile. "Nice to meet you."

Rushing off, he leaves Gale's family still standing in the sun with his sister.

"Damn it's hot," Birdy mutters, earning a sharp look from Gale's dad.

"Watch your mouth, Phoebe."

She opens her mouth, maybe to apologize, Gale's dad is one of the few people she seems to have any respect for, but stops when she spots Madge.

"Oh, Madgie, I thought you were smart."

Gale's face pulls back in confusion, not sure how his nutcase cousin knows his girlfriend's name.

"Birdy?" Madge looks every bit as confused as Gale feels. "Why are you here?"

"I don't have a choice. I'm related to these ding dongs, what's your excuse?"

Madge pinches the bridge of her nose. "Gale is my boyfriend."

"The one you got gussied up for at prom?" Birdy snorts. "If you'd told me who it was I could've saved you some money. Showing up not drunk and fully clothed was above and beyond for this one."

Gale starts to snap at her, but his mom beats him to it.

"Phoebe!" She narrows her eyes at her. "If you're going to be rude you can leave."

Looking moderately ashamed, Birdy mumbles an apology that doesn't sound even remotely sincere before glaring back at the house.

"Sorry." She wrinkles her nose. "Olive came back last night and it's been-" she gives Posy a wary look "-heck."

Glancing at his dad, Gale sees he's staring at the backdoor.

"Your mom came back?"

Birdy nods, still looking disgusted.

"Couldn't be bothered to show up when Hester got herself knocked up, or when Matt had that incident in Mexico, but she and Antonio both managed to get back for this." She huffs, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Parents of the year."

As if on cue, Gale's Meemaw comes out of the house, dragging a blonde man by the cuff of his shirt with one hand, her other arm linked with a willowy dark haired woman's, followed by an agitated Pawpaw.

"Oh Asher!" She shouts when she sees Gale's dad. "Livvie's come home, and she even brought Tony!"

Squinting, Gale frowns.

He hasn't seen his Aunt Olive in a few years, but she hasn't changed much.

Tall, thin, bright gray eyes, and straight, black hair without a hint of silver in it. Either she keeps it colored or not taking care of her kids has preserved her youth.

His mom makes a slight huffing noise, clearly unimpressed by her vanishing sister-in-law's sudden reappearance.

"Ash!" Aunt Olive beams, flinging her arms around Gale's dad's neck. "I've missed you so much!"

Birdy makes a scoffing noise and rolls her eyes, and Gale agrees with her sentiment. If Aunt Olive missed her brother half as much as she claimed she might call once in awhile.

Pulling back, Aunt Olive grabs Gale's mom, crushing her in a hug. "Hazelle!"

While his aunt hugs the life out of his parents, his Meemaw blubbers happily about having the whole family together again.

It won't last long, that much Gale knows. Aunt Olive and Uncle Antonio will probably be gone before the best man even gives his speech, but he supposes it's worth dealing with the aftermath to see his Meemaw happy for the next few hours at least.

"Gale!" She grabs a horrified Rory.

"Liv," their dad catches her, "that's Rory." He claps Gale on the shoulder. "This is Gale."

Frowning, Gale racks his brain, trying to remember just when he'd last seen his aunt. Had Posy even been born? He can't remember.

Aunt Olive frowns, looking between the two brothers for a minute, a bit confused, before beaming again. "You've gotten so tall."

"That happens to kids," Birdy mutters, eyes narrowed on her mom.

"Funny," Uncle Antonio chuckles, raising a hand over her head and lowering it, "you have not"

She shoots him a filthy look which he retaliates against by grabbing her and pulling her into a hug.

Struggling, half-heartedly, Birdy finally sighs and slumps into her dad's hug, fighting off a grin.

While he's distracted, his aunt yanks Gale into a hug, then pulls back, squeezing his face in her well manicured fingers.

"He looks just like you, Ash."

"Uh, shanks?" Gale sputters through squished cheeks.

Beside him, Madge snorts.

Aunt Olive's smile widens. "Are you his little girlfriend?"

"Oh, Livvie, this is Madge," his Meemaw jumps in before Gale can fully process what's been asked. "She's just the sweetest little thing."

She begins rambling about all of Madge high points, bringing her pictures from prom and coming to Easter dinner, each word of praise causing Madge's cheeks to turn a deeper shade of pink that creeps distractingly down the front of her dress.

"It's so nice for you to finally get the daughter you've always wanted," Aunt Olive tells Gale's dad, misty eyed.

He just presses his fingers to his eyes in response.

"We have a daughter, Olive," his mom tells her through gritted teeth, gesturing to a bewildered Posy. "If you bothered showing up anytime in the last few years you'd know that."

Looking anything but put off, Aunt Olive scoops Posy up and hugs her, as if she's known her all along.

Finally, as more guests start to filter in, chatting incoherently to Gale, Uncle Antonio excuses himself.

"Ah, my family is here." He links his arm with Birdy's. "My little bird and I shall round them up, seat them...and break the news to them that there is no open bar." He sighs sadly. "The boy's family, they were quite against it I'm afraid. Very regrettable."

"It's a liability issue, dad," Birdy sighs, sounding as if she's reminding him for the millionth time. "Besides, between your cousin Memo and Uncle Levi there's plenty of liquor here. I'm pretty sure I saw a keg in Levi's passenger side door."

Far from being upset, Uncle Antonio looks delighted. He claps his hands. "Fantastic! Teamwork at its finest!"

Dragging Birdy along, Uncle Antonio begins shouting greetings at the newcomers, followed by excited cheers.

"I need to get back into Hetty," Aunt Olive tells them, beaming around at the group. "She's such a lovely bride."

"I'll come too," Meemaw quickly tells her. "It's so exciting, being the grandmother of the bride!"

Aunt Olive's smile falters, and her eyes almost roll, but she swiftly hides her annoyance with a cheery laugh. "If you must."

She rushes back off, Meemaw trailing behind her, offering helpful hints for Hester's hair and veil, once more leaving Gale and his family standing in the sun.

#######

The ceremony is beautiful, at least to Madge's eyes, even if she doesn't understand half of what's said.

"Don't worry," Birdy tells her as she flops in the chair at the Hawthorne family's table. "It all boils down to the same thing. You didn't miss much."

Still, Madge wishes she hadn't missed any of it.

Hester comes to the table, her skin radiant and her hair piled on her head in a delicate looking nest of curls.

"It's so nice to meet you," she tells Madge, taking up the seat beside her sister. "I always knew Gale could get a nice girlfriend if he tried."

"You mean one that isn't covered in stripper glitter?"

Gale makes a threatening noise, but it dies when Hester sighs.

"Birdy…" Hester closes her eyes. "Can you be nice for just today?"

Snorting into her punch, Birdy shakes her head. "Nope."

Rolling her eyes, Hester ignores her. "So, Madge, that's an...unusual name."

"Your name is Hester. 'Madge' sounds new age hippy compared to that," Birdy cuts her off. "Besides, you named your daughter 'Sloane' because you loved 'Ferris Bueller'."

Continuing to ignore her, Hester smiles. "Is it a family name?"

Madge battles down nervous laughter at the exchange. "Um, no, my dad just liked it."

Hester stays at the table for several more minutes, getting caught up with her younger cousins, aunt, and uncle before grabbing Birdy and pulling her away.

"It's almost time for the cake cutting," she tells them. "Get up early, the groom's cake is going to go quick."

It takes standing in line for several minutes, behind a woman Madge finally decides must be one of Gale's Uncle Antonio's sisters, before she realizes just what is so special about the groom's cake.

"Is that…" Madge frowns at it.

Birdy slams her knife through the unfortunate cake's end. "Yep. Bleedin' Armadillo groom's cake." She shrugs, handing Gale the tail. "Hetty and Lind are big fans of the movie. You have no idea how hard I had to work not to wear 'blush and bashful'. Though, to be honest, watermelon and orchid aren't much better."

Madge kind of agrees, but tries not to make it too obvious.

Rory and Vick pull her onto the dance floor, a patch of land covered in plywood and sawdust, and the ensuing dance nearly knocks their Meemaw off her feet as she tries to slow dance with Matt.

"You still dating the knucklhead?" Gale's grandpa asks as he cuts in, pushing a disgruntled Rory toward the sidelines, into a clutch of the groom's cousins.

Madge snorts. "Yeah."

"Lucky him." He squints at her. "You're a looker. Ugly as he is, it's nothing short of a miracle you said yes."

Laughing, Madge shakes her head. "You are aware Gale is very handsome, right?"

"Not really," he scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Eyes went south during the Carter administration. Haven't seen a one of these little shits clearly, truth be told."

That does not surprise Madge. She decides not to ask how he knows she's a 'looker' if he can't see. He deserves some secrets she supposes.

"I'm cutting in," Gale says, tapping his grandpa on the shoulder.

"What if I don't let you?" His grandpa asks, barely managing to keep his mouth from turning up in a grin.

Gale shrugs. "I've got the keys to your truck, Pawpaw."

Glaring and grumbling, his grandpa backs off and stumps off to the corner where Gale's grandmother has his Aunt Olive cornered at a table.

Taking Madge's hand, Gale smirks. "That worked better than I planned."

Snorting, Madge rolls her eyes.

"What?" He shrugs. "He was just working up to embarrassing me." He glares around. "They all are."

"It's a conspiracy then?" Madge laughs. "They're all out to get you?"

"You've met them," he mutters. "They're all nuts."

While Madge doesn't deny that his family is...interesting, and they clearly don't get along for more than a few hours judging by the glum look on his aunt's face as her mother talks to her, she likes them.

It isn't like Madge, an island in her life. Gale has people he can depend on, even if they might grumble and gripe about it.

"I like them."

"Well, I'd rather avoid them." He tightens his arm around her when he spots Matt. "None of them can come to our wedding."

Madge's ears perk up.

"Our wedding?"

Gale's color deepens and he grunts, avoiding looking at her.

Pinching his side, Madge presses her chin to his chest and grins up at him.

"Our wedding?"

Still avoiding looking at her, he mumbles something that sounds like 'uh, yeah'.

Popping on her toes, Madge presses a kiss to his scruffy jaw and grins. "Fine, but Posy will never forgive you if you make me have a courthouse wedding and deny her the chance to be a flower girl or bridesmaid."

Heat still radiating off him, Gale finally cuts his eyes down, lips twitching.

"It'd be worth it to avoid Uncle Levi and his wedding keg."

Grimacing Madge nods. He has a point.

#######

Gale's uncle sets off fireworks right after sundown.

He leaves only a few minutes later, when someone mentions the fact that it's illegal to set off fireworks in the city limits.

"Glad you got to see me, beautiful," he shouts at Madge as he waves goodbye from the front of the most beat up pick-up Madge has ever seen. It makes Gale's rust bucket look practically top of the line.

Despite Gale's mother wanting to leave after the vows, they stay right up until someone, Madge greatly suspects the bride's siblings, begins playing 'The Bad Touch' on repeat.

"Boys, do not sing that song anymore," Gale's mother tiredly reprimands her sons as they slowly make their way from the dance floor.

Posy had, to both Gale's parents' relief, fallen asleep before the music change happened, but that won't matter if both Rory and Vick keep repeating the chorus.

Glancing behind her, Madge sees Hester with her father and Birdy, doing a wild swing dance, clearly not bothered by the lyrics, while Olive and Cliff do a strange sort of two-step.

They were a little odd, not quite the family Madge had expected for Gale, but they weren't as awful as he'd made them out to be.

"Are you kidding?" Gale grumbles when Madge says as much. "Levi's an adult delinquent, Olive is the poster child for bad parenting, and my grandma is delusional." He pulled back, expression incredulous. "My family is one bad reunion away from being on an episode of cops."

She'd gladly sit through that episode just for the requisite shirtless scene at the end, as long as it was Gale.

Leaning into him, Madge grins lazily.

"Can we have a Bleedin' Armadillo groom's cake at our wedding too?"

Fingers toying with the loose ends of her hair, now collapsed under the summer humidity and all the activity, Gale grunts.

"Only if I don't have to wear a tie."

Madge feigns contemplation. "I dunno, those bow ties looked pretty snazzy…"

"Mellark says the tieless look is in."

She's pretty sure she had heard Peeta telling him something like that, knowledge gained from reading a lot of fashion magazines, but she still wrinkles her nose.

"Well, we'll see. I'm still in high school after all." She leans further into him. "Fashion changes. Ties might be back in by then."

Kissing the top of her head, Gale chuckles, deep and warm, rumbling through his chest.

"Yeah, but hopefully not."

Madge hopes not too.

He pulls off the messy look well.


	33. Oh what joy and what surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.

Christmas, Freshman Year

Posy bounces on her toes, craning her neck as she peers around the family in line in front of them, almost falling into the red and white striped ropes keeping things orderly.

"When are we gonna see Santa?" She whines, stomping her foot in irritation. "Gale, can't you make it go faster?"

Sighing, Gale picks her up, settling her on his hip.

"You have to be patient, Pose," he quietly tells her, despite feeling every bit as antsy as her.

What are all these brats asking for? The entire contents of a toy store?

They need to get on the fat guy's lap, ask for a max of two gifts, which Gale still thinks is a little greedy, take their crappy picture, then get the hell out of the way.

From her new vantage point, Posy glares toward the front of the line and crossing her arms with a huff.

Gale holds her for a few minute, until she gets too fidgety and he has to set her back on the ground to tap her foot impatiently as the line inches forward.

After ten minutes, though it feels like half an hour, something slams into Gale's back.

"Sorry!" Rory tells the lady behind them as she rights her child, a little girl Rory had apparently shoved Vick past when he'd pushed him directly into Gale's back.

"You're gonna be on the naughty list," Posy snaps at him, her hands on her hips.

"What a tragedy," Rory mumbles, earning a sharp look from Gale.

Vick pulls his hat further down on his head before pulling a wrinkled paper from his pocket and studying it intensely.

"Where've you two been?" Gale asks, squinting down at Vick's paper suspiciously. "I thought you were just going to the bathroom."

And that had been almost an hour ago. If they'd really been using the toilet that long they need to have a discussion about their diets.

"I stopped at the bookstore," Vick explains, holding out the list. "I was writing down books to look for at the library."

Taking the paper, Gale glances over the list, which look to be textbooks if the names are any indication, then hands it back to Vick.

"Then Rory went in the panty store."

Gale groans. "Why?"

And is he banned? Are their parents going to be getting a call from mall security about their pervy kid?

"I was looking," Rory answers, not looking even the least bit ashamed. "There's no law against looking."

"You don't need to go to the panty store," Posy tells him. "That's for girls."

Which is exactly why Rory went creeping around in there.

Smirk growing, Rory shrugs. "I was looking for Gale a gift."

"Gale is a boy," Posy reminds him before turning her back on him with a huff, muttering 'stupid head' under her breath as she does.

Once Posy's attention is back on glaring at the slow moving line, Rory snickers.

"You'd've really liked what we saw in there," he tells Gale. "Definitely what I'd ask Santa for if I were you."

Rolling his eyes, Gale starts to turn his back on the both of them, but stops when he spots someone weaving through the mall crowd. Someone with blonde hair, bright eyes, and wind blushed cheeks.

Madge has an oversized hat on, red, pulled low on her head, pale hair peeking out from under it, some haphazardly tucked in the collar of her coat and tangled in her scarf.

She's wholly unaware anyone is watching her as she chatters over her shoulder at a grumpy looking man Gale assumes must be her dad.

There are several bags held tight in her hands, and to Gale's absolute horror, one of them is a painfully bright pink.

No. If ever there were a time for a Christmas miracle, now is it. Please don't let Rory have been spying on Madge as she shopped for new underwear.

Groaning, Gale looks back at the now positively gleeful Rory.

"Tell me you didn't."

Rory's grin widens. "She was buying a new bra."

This is not information Gale needs.

Gale is asking Santa to take his pain in the ass brother to the North Pole to be an elf.

"I wouldn't have thought she was a rhinestone girl, but you can never tell."

Vick makes an offended noise.

"She didn't buy a rhinestone one," he corrects him, shaking his head and looking at Gale. "It was just a regular old t-shirt bra. It was blue."

Grimacing, Gale nods. That makes things so much better. Now he's going to imagine a blue bra every time he sees her. As if he doesn't have enough problems when he's around her. Now he's probably going to say something really articulate, like 'the sky is really bra today'. Fantastic.

"Don't worry, Gale, she didn't see us," Vick assures him. "The lady at the counter kept giving us weird looks so we left really quick."

It's a small mercy, but Gale will take it.

Chewing his lip, Gale watches as Madge winds closer, still talking over her shoulder.

Pulling his cap low, Gale hides his face and focuses on Posy bouncing on her little heels.

"Madge! Hey, Madge!"

Spinning on the spot, Gale glares at Rory, now waving wildly with his mismatches gloved hands, beckoning Madge from the depths of the mall mob.

At first Gale thinks she might not hear. The mall is overwhelmingly noisy and she's a good distance from them. Even if Rory has the loudest mouth in the country, he couldn't possibly get his voice to carry over the din of panicked shoppers.

Then Madge stops and looks around.

Apparently, Rory really is louder than a deafening crowd.

For a moment she looks confused, then her face brightens as she spots Rory and now Vick, both waving wildly at her.

Groaning, Gale tries to block Posy from seeing Madge and adding her own particular brand of of embarrassment to the scene, but he isn't quick enough.

"Move Gale, I wanna see Madge," she grumbles, pushing him away and smiling as Madge finally reaches the line.

"Hi," she tells them, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Waiting to see Santa?"

"Posy is," Vick answers.

"And Gale," Rory adds, smirking.

Madge makes a disbelieving noise before flashing a tight smile at Gale. He manages to only look surly in response.

Leaning down to Posy's level, Madge's smile softens.

"What are you going to ask Santa for, Posy?"

Taking a deep breath, Posy practically shouts her response.

"I want a-wanna Star Doll." She hold a strand of her hair up. "One with hair like mine."

Madge nods, not looking like she has even the slightest idea what kind of doll Posy is babbling about.

"Oh...okay," she finally says, her smile still tacked in place.

"What're you askin' Santa for?" Posy asks, wide eyes on Madge's numerous packages. "Or do you not hafta?"

A blush creeping onto her already pink cheeks, Madge glances down to her bags.

"These are Mr. Abernathy's. I'm just helping him out," she tells Posy, gesturing to the cranky looking man standing several feet behind her, then quickly answers the question. "I don't know what I want Santa to bring me. I haven't had much of a chance to think about it."

If it's a boyfriend she'd like, Gale can help old Saint Nick out.

Nodding, Posy sighs. "You should think fast about it. Christmas is real close."

Laughing, Madge nods. "I'll work on it tonight."

"Do you want help with all those bags?" Rory butts in, leaning on one of the poles holding the ropes up, giving Madge what he must think is a winning smile, but it's more a leer. "I'm not busy."

Like hell he isn't. If anyone is going to help her with her bags, it's Gale.

"I'm not busy either," Vick quickly adds, half pushing Rory out of the way.

Absolutely not. He's not as perverted at Rory, yet, but he hasn't got a filter on his mouth. There's no telling what he'd tell Madge during one of his spurts of verbal diarrhea.

The line lurches forward a foot and the man with Madge clears his throat, taps his watch impatiently and glares around at passersby.

Shaking her head, Madge continues to smile.

"No, I think I've got them."

"Are you su-"

"She doesn't want your help," Gale snaps, almost ready to snatch Posy up and make a run for it before his brothers can embarrass him, their ultimate goal, he's sure of it.

Madge's smile falters a bit, but she quickly schools it back into a bright one.

"They aren't that heavy," she softly tells them. "Really."

Glancing over her shoulder, then back, she makes a gesture towards the front of the line.

"Good luck with Santa."

Posy nods sharply. "I'll tell him you're thinking 'bout what you want so he can be sure to get it to you."

Smiling again, Madge nods. "Thanks, and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" Vick and Posy shout back at her as she turns to go.

"Hate for her to go, love to watch her leave," Rory mumbles to himself, earning a jab in the side from Vick. Glaring, he adds, "Like you weren't thinking the same thing."

Vick says nothing in his defense, but gives Rory a filthy look.

Gale tries to ignore them and focus on the fact that the line is finally progressing, and that Madge has the patience of a saint when it comes to obnoxious little kids.

#######

An hour later, after Posy has finally put in her Christmas request, Gale drags his sibling through the packed mall, out to his dad's truck.

"Posy in the back," Gale reminds her as she tries to edge out Rory for shotgun.

Vick helps her buckle in as Gale slams the door and starts to walk around the bed of the truck.

He freezes when he spots Madge rushing through the snow toward him.

Her scarf is up at her nose, head down, and her coat is pulled tight, staving off the bitter wind blowing around them, sweeping dead leaves and snow flurries at her.

She's so tightly bundled that she doesn't even see Gale until she walks into him, bouncing off his chest and stumbling backward.

"I'm so sorry!" She squeaks, muffled through her layers. "I didn't see yo-"

"It's okay," Gale hears his own voice rumble as he holds her by the shoulders, keeping her upright.

Immediately her eyes widen as she realizes who she's walked into.

"Oh!" She takes a small step back, pulls the scarf down a fraction, just enough for Gale to see her lips, puckered in worry.

"Went back in?" He asks, jerking his head toward the glowing entrance to the mall.

A weak smile flicks on her lips and she nods. "Yeah...Mr. Abernathy forgot he had one last thing to pick up, so I volunteered to go back for it while he waited in the car. It was for the safety of all present."

She laughs a little, so Gale assumes she's making a joke, and he forces a little chuckle of his own. It falls a bit flat.

An awkward silence settles between them, Gale staring while Madge chews her lip.

He knows he should say something, but his brain has stopped functioning, only able to focus on her lips and the way the light catches in her eyes.

Finally, she motions to the car running in the space beside his dad's truck.

"I should go."

Gale nods, trying to force words from his mouth but only managing a grunt.

Small bag in hand, Madge nods a goodbye and walks around him.

Her hand is on the passenger side door before he manages to utter anything.

"Uh, Madge, Merry Christmas."

She looks back, expression genuine, bright.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Gale, and happy new year."

Attempting a smile, which feels more like a grimace, Gale nods. "Yeah, you too."

With one last flash of a smile, Madge opens her door and ducks in.

Shaking the snow from his hat, Gale goes to the driver side of the truck and gets in.

"God, Gale, took you long enough. Did you at least get her number?"

Putting the truck in gear, Gale shoots Rory a dark look.

"Hey, it's the season of miracles, I just thought you'd finally gotten one."

"Stuff it, Rory."

But, Gale thinks, he kind of had gotten a miracle.

If a few minutes with Madge without his siblings interference or him making a jackass out of himself isn't a miracle, Gale doesn't know what one is.


End file.
